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AMBITION 


OR, 


THE  LAUNCH   OF  A   SKIFF   UPON  THE 
SEA  OF   LIFE. 


BY 

EIGGAM    STREBOR. 


NEW  YORK : 

PUBLISHED   FOR  THE   AUTHOR 

BY    LANGE,    LITTLE    &    CO. 
1876. 


Copyright, 
LANGE,   LITTLE   &   CO, 

1875. 


New  York  :  Lange,  Little  &  Co.,  Printers, 
Nos.  10  to  SO  Astor  Place. 


THIS  BOOK 
IS    MOST    RESPECTFULLY 

TO 

JOHN    F.   TRO^A/', 

OP 

NEW  YORK  CITY. 


u.^ 


PREFACE. 


S  I  have  made  one  of  the  most  prominent 
^j  men  of  New  York  City  my  hero — I 
will  explain  the  significance  of  the  name 
''Ames  Skiff." 

This  young  hero  launches  his  tiny  skiff  upon 
the  turbulent  waves  of  the  ocean  of  life — and 
therefore  aims  to  steer  her  in  the  right  course, 
and,  finally,  through  his  indomitable  energy, 
succeeds  in  anchoring  her  in  safety  to  the  haven 
where  he  would  be. 

I  really  do  not  think  that  I  have  overdrawn 
the  natural  picture  of  life  ;  and  proud  must  be 
the  quiet  hamlet  that  sends  a  true  hero  into  the 
world. 

Let  the.  sharp  and    venomous  arrows  fly  thick 


6  PREFACE. 

and  fast  from  envious  quivers  around  him, 
their  poison  will  be  drawn  before  they  strike  our 
true  hero. 

Although  but  a  mortal,  given  to  temptation  as 
thousands  of  brave  men,  he  has  proved  to  the 
world  that  he  possesses  the  true  metal  that 
makes  the  American  hero. 

For  perseverance  and  energy  he  deserves  the 
praise  of  the  people,  and  of  his  political  life  I 
will  let   others  speak. 

With  his  faults  I  have  nothing  to  do ;  but  the 
world  knows  for  a  certainty  that  whatever  the 
true  hero  undertakes  he  does  in  grand  style. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  MAGNIFICENT  FOUR-IN-HAND. 

PAGB 

The  iron  will 15 

CHAPTER  n. 

THE  BOY  HERO. 

"  I'd  rather  be  a  chimney-sweep  than  be  made  fetch  water 

like  a  girl" 18 

CHAPTER  HI. 

THE    ARRIVAL    OF   THE    GRAND    CIRCUS. 

"  I  will  go  to  head-quarters  myself" 22 

CHAPTER    IV. 

AMES  IN  HIS  NEW  ROLE. 

The  vision, — The  departure 27 

CHAPTER    V. 

AMES    TURNS    PEDDLER. 

The  ghost 30 

CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  ENCOUNTER  WITH  THE  GHOST. 

The  miracle 37 


O  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    VII. 

RICHARD    IS    HIMSELF    AGAIN.  p^^p 

Tlie  sudden  flight  of  Ames ...      44 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

"he  told  me  not  to  tell." 

The  love  of  a  sister 48 

CHAPTER    IX. 

AMY  SUTTON. 

The  business  engagement - 51 

CHAPTER    X. 

HENRY    IN    SEARCH    OF    ONE    THING    FINDS    ANOTHER. 

Meeting  wiih   the  orphans. — Interview   be.ween  Amy  and 
Henr\^ 54 

CHAPTER    XI. 

THE     PENN     BROTHERS. 

Sad  news  from  sea. — The  unexpected  meeting 61 

CHAPTER    XII. 

THE  WEDDING. 

The  return  of  Ames.-^The   offer  scorned.  —  "Sir,    I  am 

an  American  " 64 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE      HAPPY     FAMILY. 

The  poor  widow's  story . .    » .  .  . .      d'] 

CtlAPTER    XIV. 

THE    ARREST    AND    TRIAL. 

The  midnight  alarm. — The  circumstantial  evidence 72 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHAPTER    XV. 

THE    ARREST    AND    TRIAL. CONTINUED.  p^ge 

The  trial   of  McMurdy.  —  Ames   put  upon   the   s'and.  — 

The  hasty  departure 76 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE    BALL    OF    THE    AMERICAN    CLUB. 

Love  at  first  sight. — fleeting  of  Ames  with  his  sister yS 

CHAPTER    XVH. 

AT  THE  CLUB. 

The  re-union.  —  "There  was  three  crows  sat  on  a  tree." — 
"  'Tis  pa^t  the  witching  hour  of  night" 82 

CHAPTER    XVni. 

THE  SURPRISE. 

"My  mother  lives  in  Heaven,  sir." — Affecting  meeting 
between  I\Irs.  Sutton  and  the  stranger. — The  meeting 
between  Henry  DcBar  and  Frank  Hardy 85 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE  ENGAGEMENT. 

Full  consent  of  Uncle  Frank 90 

CHAPTER    XX. 

THE    MYSTERIOUS    GUEST. 

The  quarrel.  —  "  You  have  no  right  to  dictate  to  me  who  I 
shall  love  " 95 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE  BETROTHAL. 

The  ring  that  had  been  in  the  family  for  generations 100 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE    STEAMBOAT    DISASTER. 

The  rescue  of  Ames. — His  heroic  conduct 104 


lO  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

AT  THE  CLUB.  pace 

How  they  received  the  terrible  news  at  the  club. — The  reso- 
lutions passed. 107 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

HOW    THE    SUFFERERS    WERE    RESCUED. 

The  steamer  Tre7iton. — The  recognition. — The  arrival  at 
Vicksburg no 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE    AVOWAL    AND    SEPARATION. 

The  sudden  departure 113 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE  SUDDEN  RETURN. THE  GLAD  SURPRISE. 

* '  Have  you  no  word  of  welcome  ?  " 118 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE    ALARM. THE    RESCUE    AND    ITS    RESULTS. 

The  Startling  cry  of  "mad  dog." — Meeting  between  Ames 
and  Annie  Penn. — Love's  young  dream 122 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE      DOUBLE      SURPRISE. 

"I  cannot  be  your  groomsman,  for  I  am  myself  engaged  ".    128 
CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE    SAD    HISTORY    OF    FRANK    HARDy's    EARLY    LIFE. 

The  stolen   bank-notes. — The  dismissal. — The  temptation 
and  rescue 135 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  SINGULAR  MEETING  OF  UNCLE  AND  NEPHEW. 

Ames's  delight  at  being  the  means  of  bringing  about  the 

meeting 142 


CONTENTS.  I  1 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ASHTON    MOORE    MEETS    WITH    NOTHING    BUT    SURPRISES.      pace 

"My  sainted  mother,  dost  thou  look  upon  this  scene.? " — 
Maggie's  surmises.  —  ''He's  got  my  name,  so  he  must 
be  some  relation  to  me. " 146 

CHAPTER  XXXH. 

THE    DOUBLE    WEDDING. 

The  village  children. — The  flowery  path 150 

CHAPTER    XXXHI. 

THE    GRAND    RECEPTION. 

The  brides  at  home 156 

CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

ROSA    LYNN    IN    A    NEW    ROLE. 

"For  impudence  she  is  promoted  from  dressing-maid  to 
maid-of-all-work." — ''Never  mind,  I'll  be  a  grand 
lady  yet. " 159 

CHAPTER    XXXV. 

SIR    EDWARD    AT    THE    CLUB-ROOM. 

The  toasts 1 64 

CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

THE    MASK    BALL. 

The  handsome  Apollo  and   the  gypsy  fortune-teller. — The 

jealousy  of  Aurora. — The  poor  minstrel 167 

CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

A  STORMY  SCENE  AT  BREAKFAST. 

The  three  things  which  Rosa  went  to  see  at  the  ball. — 
Rosa's  indignation.  —  "When  she  gets  to  be  a  lady, 
I'll  call  her  so — not  before." 169 


1 2  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

ROSA    AS    HOUSE-MAID.  p^gk 

Interview  between  Bert   Howard  and  Rosi.  —  "Ah!  did 

you  tell  me  not  to  slam  it?  " — Bert's  perplexity 172 

CHAPTER    XXXIX. 
SIR  Edward's  resolution. 
Sir  Edward's  interview  with  Wallace. — His  determination 

to  visit  Rosa 1 76 

CHAPTER    XL. 

INTERVIEW    BETWEEN    SIR    EDWARD    AND    ROSA. 

The  interruption. — The  effect  of  playing  a  grand  march. — 
''  I  don't  know  who  I  am." — The  reappearance  of 
Bert.  — "  Oh  !  you're  talking  in  your  sleep." 179 

CHAPTER  XLI.     * 

SIR    EDWARD    RELATES    HIS    PROMISED    STORY. 

Sudden  appearance  of  Rosa. — The  strange  discovery. — The 
miniature  tells  its  own  tale. — The  findiilg  of  the  lost 
pearl. — Rosa  finds  a  protector  in  Sir  Edward. — She  is  no 
longer  Rosa  Lynn  the  circus-rider,  or  the  maid-of-all- 
work,  but  Lady  Maud  of  Clifton  Hall 183 

CHAPTER  XLH. 

THE    FAMILY    AT    HOME. 

The  hasty  summons. — The  meeting  between  Lady  Maud 
and  her  former  mistress. — Rosa's  magnanimity. — Bert 
gains  the  prize 189 


CONTENTS.  13 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

THE    DOUBLE   WEDDING.  pack 

The    recognition  between  Lady  Maud   and  Ames. — The 

parting  upon  the  ocean  wave 194 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE    CONFLAGRATION. 

Tne  heroic  conduct  of  Ames. — The  firemen's  supper. — The 
toast  to  the  hero.— The  house  of  pleasure  in  the  morn- 
ing a  mass  of  ruins  at  night 197 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE    SHADOW    OF    DEATH. 

The  fatal  missive. — Crossing  the  dark  river 202 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 

A    FLYING    VISIT    OUT    WEST. 

The  fearful  crash. — The  wreck. — Again  on  the  track. — Safe 

arrival 205 

CHAPTER  XLVH. 

THE    MEETING    WITH    OLD    FRIENDS. — MELANCHOLY    MEETING 
WITH    HENRY    DEBAR. 

Untimely  death  of  Frank  Hardy. — Heartrending  scene  at 

the  grave 208 

•    CHAPTER  XLVHI. 

THE    MYSTERY    OF    MAGGIE's    BIRTH    SOLVED. THE    HEIRESS..     214 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 

MILTON    smith's    REWARD. 

Maggie  is  made  happy  in  his  great  love 218 


14  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    L. 

THE    GOAL    OF    HIS    AMBITION    REACHED.  page 

He  is  Styled  the  prince  of  good  fellows. — He  looks  after 
the  comforts  of  the  poorer  classes. — And  he  under- 
takes nothing  but  what  he  goes  through  with  in  grand 
style 220 

CHAPTER    LI. 

CONCLUSION. 

Our  hero  accepts  a  military  position. — A  flattering  ovation. 

— '^Long  live  our  hero  \" 223 


AMBITION 


CHAPTER    I. 


THE    MAGNIFICENT     FOUR    IN    HAND. 

/NE  afternoon  in  the  summer  of  eighteen 
hundred  and  seventy,  as  I,  with  some 
lady  friends,  were  crossing"  Fourteenth 
Street,  m_y  attention  was  attracted  by  the  sudden 
approach  of  an  elegant  turnout.  There  were  three 
gentlemen  seated  therein.  With  them  I  have  noth- 
ing to  do ;  my  eyes  were  riveted  upon  the  hand- 
some driver.  He  was  dressed  in  pure  white,  with  a 
straw  hat  around  which  was  a  band  of  blue  ribbon 
and  a  golden  anchor  in  front ;  he  looked  as  though 
he  had  just  come  out  of  a  band-box,  so  neat  and 
clean  was  he. 

Well!  all  eyes  were  centered  upon  him,  for  he 
handled  the  ribbons  so  gracefully.  As  he  came  near 
the  crowd  which  were  crossing  the  street,  he  reined 


1 6  AMBITION. 

in  the  four  magnificent  prancing  animals  with  a 
hand  of  iron,  and  they  soon  were  made  to  under- 
stand that  they  were  in  the  hands  of  a  master. 

Now  I  must  describe  my  hero.  He  was  a  man 
apparently  thirty  years  of  age,  in  the  full  vigor  of 
manhood,  with  liQ^ht  hair  which  was  a  mass  of  beau- 
tiful  curls,  his  eyes  were  as  blue  as  the  skies,  and 
had  the  merry  twinkle  of  the  stars  on  a  cold  winter 
night,  but  his  chief  beauty  lay  in  the  mouth  and 
chin  ;  the  latter  was  broad  and  manly,  his  mouth 
was  partially  hidden  by  a  long  silken  light  mus- 
tache, slightly  curled  at  the  ends.  At  times,  when  in 
deep  thought,  one  would  think  that  he  was  making 
up  his  mind  to  conquer  the  world,  and  again,  when 
interested  in  anything,  his  whole  countenance  would 
brighten  with  a  rare  smile,  or  he  would  burst  out  in 
a  hearty  laugh,  which  would  display  a  magnificent 
set  of  the  whitest  teeth. 

The  hands  that  had  reined  in  those  four  fiery 
horses  were  small  and  well  shaped,  and  soft  as  a 
lady's.  No  one,  to  feel  the  gentle  pressure  of  that 
hand  would  think  that  his  grip  was  of  iron,  but 
such  was  the  grip  of  Ames  Skiff ;  his  bright  genial 
nature  brought  around  him  many  friends  who  would 
strew  his  pathway  with  roses,  as  it  were,  because  he 
had  plenty  of  that  which  the  world  worships,  money! 
and  without  which  we  are  nothing. 


AMBITION.  1 7 

Now  we  must  trace  our  hero  from  the  beginning, 
and  will  find  in  him  the  true  metal,  for  this  man 
has  made  his  own  fortune,  and  is  one  of  nature's 
noblemen. 

I  hope  the  young  men  of  the  present  day  will 
follow  his  example  ;  he  believed  in  the  words  of  the 
poet  : 

"  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood. 
Leads  on  to  fortune." 


CHAPTER      II 


THE    BOY    HERO. 

WAY  Up  among  the  mountains  ot  the 
State  of  New  York,  Hved  a  respectable 
but  poor  couple,  with  a  small  family  of 
pretty  bright  children,  among  them  a  little  curly- 
headed,  laughing,  meddlesome  imp,  who  was  the 
favorite  of  everybody. 

There  was  no  mischief  too  great  for  him  to  be 
the  head  of. 

One  day  there  was  a  group  of  little,  healthy, 
dirty  urchins,  who  were  in  a  loud  altercation  about 
something,  when  one  of  the  number  stepped  out 
with  his  sleeves  rolled  up  in  fighting  trim,  saying  : 

"  I'll  bet  two  cents  that  I  can  beat  any  of  the 
crowd.  Them  that's  spilling  for  a  fight,  just  come 
on !  "  and  he  planted  one  bare  heel  in  the  ground, 
spat  in  his  hand,  and  halloed,  "  Come  on,  I  say ! " 

At  that  moment,  a  little  fellow,  dressed  in  gray, 
was  seen  running  toward  the  group.     He  was  hat- 


AMBITION.  19 

less  and  shoeless,  his  pants  were  neatly  patched, 
but  with  different  colors.  Yet  the  sunshine  of  his 
heart  shone  in  his  beaming  face.     He  was 

* '  Just  as  happy  as  a  big  sunflower. " 

As  he  ran  toward  the  group,  the  boys  shouted, 
''  Here  comes  Ames  Skiff.  He'll  fight  with  you, 
Tony  !  "  and  they  parted  right  and  left  for  the  ring- 
leader to  enter  the  circle,  which  he  did,  in  fine 
style  ;  but,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  his  compan- 
ions, he  declined  to  fight  on  so  slight  a  provocation. 

As  the  boys  gathered  around  him,  he  said, 
"  Now,  listen,  boys  !  There's  a  big  show  coming 
down  here  next  week,  and  I  want  to  make  a  name 
in  the  world  before  I  die,  and  I'm  just  going  to  join 
that  circus.  You  see  if  I  don't!  By  golly!  but  won't 
I  ride  them  there  horses.  I'll  bet  my  life  that  I  can 
raise  the  wind,  and  you'll  all  live  to  see  me  Presi- 
dent of  these  United  States,  some  day ;  that  is,  if  you 
don't  jump  into  and  kill  each  other  right  away  !  " 

The  boys  sent  up  a  tremendous  shout,  with 
"three  cheers  for  Ames  Skiff,  our  president  that  is 
to  be." 

And  Ames  laughed  heartily  with  the  rest,  and 
shook  his  curly  head,  saying,  *'  Never  mind  boys, 
you  can  make  as  much  fun  as  you  please,  but  I'll 
do  the  thing  up  brown  !  " 


20  AMBITION. 

''  Ah,  yes  !  The  thing  is  you  won't  fight  it  up 
brown,  will  you,  Ames?"  said  the  boy  who  was 
ready  for  a  free  fight. 

"  No,  sir-ree,"  said  Ames.  "  My  mother  told  me 
never  to  fight  if  I  could  help  it.  Now,  you  see  I 
don't  mind  fighting  for  my  own  self,  but  when  it 
comes  to  fighting  for  another  boy,  I  say  I  ain't  to  be 
found ;  that's  it,  now  !  "  And,  so  saying,  the  non- 
combatant  hero  marched  off  with  his  colors  flying, 
at  this  bloodless  victory  ;  that  is,  with  a  piece  of 
white  cotton  thrown  over  his  head  to  shield  him 
from  the  piercing  rays  of  old  Sol,  which  the  breeze 
seemed  to  take  a  great  fancy  to  ;  for,  it  would  lift 
one  corner,  and  then  another,  seemingly  to  get  a 
peep  at  the  pretty  bright  curls  underneath. 

At  a  short  distance,  he  was  met  by  a  little  sister, 
who  was  crying  piteously.  Ames  stooped  and 
kissed  the  little  one  gently,  and  wiped  her  face 
with  her  white  apron,  which,  when  she  saw  the 
dirt  that  he  had  wiped  off  her  face  upon  her  clean 
apron,  her  tears  broke  out  afresh,  and  she  said  : 

*'  Oh,  Ames  !  this  is  my  span  clean  apron,  and 
mamma  will  whip  me  if  I  get  it  dirty.     Oh,  o-o-o- ! " 

Poor  Ames  was  overcome  at  seeing  his  sister's 
tears,  and  kneeled  in  the  dirt  before  her  (in  his 
span  clean  clothes)  as  his  sister  said,  took  her 
hands  from  her  face,  and  with  his  own  handker- 


AMBITION.  2 1 

chief  again  wiped  her  face,  and  together  they 
smoothed  out  the  rumples  in  the  wonderful  apron, 
kissed  her  tears  away,  and  marched  off  toward 
home  with  his  precious  burden  in  his  strong,  lov- 
ing arms. 

When  his  mother  saw  him  coming,  she  called 
out,  ''  Why,  Ames,  how  often  have  I  told  you  that 
you  should  not  lug  that  great  big  girl  about  ?  She's 
nearly  as  big  as  yourself,  and  is  plenty  able  to 
walk  around.  It  ain't  like  she  was  a  puny,  sickly 
thing,  nor  nothing.  Put  her  down,  this  minute,  I 
say,  and  go  along  and  fetch  a  pail  of  water ! " 

Ames  swung  his  little  sister  around  two  or 
three  times,  much  to  that  young  lady's  delight,  then 
took  up  the  pail  and  left  the  house.  When  he  got 
to  the  spring,  he  sat  down  on  the  bank,  crossed  his 
leg,  and  holding  on  to  his  bare  foot,  said  aloud  : 

"  Well,  this  will  never  do  for  me.  I  am  getting 
too  big  to  hang  'round  the  house,  and  I'll  not  do  it 
no  longer.  I'm  just  made  up  my  mind  to  make  a 
man  of  myself,  and  staying  up  here  playing  the 
girl,  won't  do  it.  I'd  rather  ^be  a  chimney-sweep 
than  be  made  fetch  water  like  a  girl !  "  and  as  he 
heard  his  mother  call  him,  he  filled  his  bucket  with 
the  clear  spring  water,  raised  it  upon  his  head,  and 
wended  his  way  homeward,  where  he  arrived  with- 
out accident,  still  thinking  of  being  a  great  man. 


CHAPTER    III 


THE    ARRIVAL    OF    THE    GRAND    CIRCUS. 

N  the  early  part  of  the  following  week,  the 
great  circus  arrived  ;  the  spacious  tent 
was  pitched  on  fair  ground ;  everybody 
for  miles  around  was   on  the  qui  vive. 

Ames's  great  day-dream  seemed  about  to  be  ful- 
filled ;  he  was  determined  to  join  that  circus ; 
and  was  one  of  the  first  to  have  a  peep  under 
the  canvas.  Then,  his  father  gave  him  money 
to  go  with  some  boys,  and  he  came  home  delight- 
ed, and  soon  prevailed  upon  his  mother  and  father 
going,  for,  said  he,  "  Oh !  father,  It  is  a  bully  thing, 
I  tell  you !" 

Accordingly,  the  next  evening,  the  whole  Skiff 
family  were  seated  under  this  great  canvas. 

The  play  was  "  The  Black  Statue,"  which  de- 
lighted the  little  family,  as  well  as  all  their  neigh- 


AMBITION.  .  23 

bors,  who  would  not  be  behind  the  Skiff  family, 
as  they  said. 

When  the  play  of  "The  Black  Statue"  was  over, 
they  brought  out  a  little  girl,  in  a  beautiful  short 
white  dress,  all  covered  with  spangles,  and  a  silver 
spangled  crown  upon  her  head  ;  her  hair,  which 
was  as  black  as  night,  hung  down  to  her  waist  in 
great  ringlets. 

After  she  made  her  bow  to  the  audience,  she 
was  lifted  upon  a  jet-black  pony,  and  given  a  tiny 
silver-mounted  whip,  with  which  she  struck  the 
animal,  and  he  darted  off  at  full  speed.  Presently, 
she  arose,  and  stood  upon  one  foot,  with  both 
arms  stretched  out,  as  if  dancing.  The  audience 
h'lld  their  breath,  thinking  every  moment  to  see 
her  fall  to  the  ground,  but  of  course  she  was  well 
trained,  and  did  not  fall.  After  remaining  in  that 
position  for  some  time,  she  stood  on  her  tip-toes, 
with  her  arms  over  her  head,  and  swayed  back- 
ward, as  if  dancing  on  the  stage.  While  in  this 
strained  position,  the  rustics  could  hold  in  no 
longer.  But  Ames  was  the  first  to  break  the  spell, 
by  clapping  his  chubby  hands,  when  all  joined  in 
heartily,  and  the  young  beauty  bowed  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  compliment. 

When  she  was  taken  off  the  horse,  and  stood 
upon  the  platform  bowing,  and  kissing  her  hand  to 


24  •    AMBITION. 

the  audience,  a  tremendous  cheer  arose,  and  she 
was  forced  to  ride  the  second  time. 

Then,  several  powerful  and  beautiful  animals  were 
led  out,  and  men  in  tights  leaped  upon  their  bare 
backs,  when  off  they  went  like  the  wind,  through 
hoops  covered  with  pink  paper,  and  over  ropes, 
while  the  clown  stood  in  the  center,  with  a  fool's 
cap  upon  his  head,  his  face  painted  hideously, 
and  a  whip  in  his  hand,  which  he  kept  cracking 
at  the  horses  as  they  flew  by.  In  the  meantime, 
saying  something  funny,  that  made  everybody 
laugh. 

Everything  that  was  done  In  a  great  city  was 
done  In  that  little  country  place,  to  delight  the 
people  ;  their  efforts"  to  please  were  not  In  vain, 
for  In  every  house,  far  and  near,  the  praises  of  the 
wonderful  circus  of  Van  Amburgh  were  sung. 

Well,  the  next  morning,  our  gallant  Ames 
turned  up  in  front  of  the  circus  tent,  where  he  lin- 
gered some  time  before  he  saw  any  one.  When 
by  and  by,  a  little  ragged  boy  hailed  him  with  :  ''  I 
say  boy,  what  are  you  prowling  about  here  for  ?  " 

At  first  our  hero  took  no  notice  of  him,  and 
walked  around  the  tent  like  some  great  Newfound- 
land dog,  who  seemed  to  say,  "  I  can  annihilate 
you  at  one  blow  ; "  but  the  little  fellow  seemed  not 
to  be  In  the  least  Intimidated  by  his  lordly  scowl, 


AMBITION.  25 

and  kept  In  his  wake  for  some  time.  When  the  pa- 
tience of  young  Ames  seemed  to  be  exhausted,  and 
he  forthwith  rewarded  the  pertinacity  of  his  med- 
dlesome friend,  with  a  blow  between  his  eyes, 
which  staggered  him  at  once. 

When  a  man  approached,  whom  Ames  recog- 
nized as  the  clown  of  the  previous  evening,  he 
stooped  and  raised  the  fallen  boy,  saying,  in  angry 
tones : 

"  How  dare  you  strike  this  little  inoffensive 
fellow  ?  " 

''  Because  he  insulted  me,"  said  Ames,  drawing 
himself  up  to  his  full  height. 

The  man  took  hold  of  him  roughly,  and  said  : 
"I'll  shake  the  life  out  of  you,  you  little  vagabond 
— yes,  I'll  thrash  you  within  an  inch  of  your  mis- 
erable life,  you  little  blackguard  ;  "  and  the  Irate 
man  shook  his  fist  In  the  face  of  Ames,  who  stood 
with  flashing  eyes,  and  his  fists  doubled  up,  as  if 
ready  for  the  fray — his  head  thrown  back  in 
fierce  defiance.  He  was  a  truthful  picture  of 
Young  America. 

The  clown  seemed  pleased  to  see  such  spirit 
In  the  boy,  and  going  towards  him,  held  out  his 
hand,  saying:  "Come,  make  friends  my  boy,  I 
thought  you  were  a  coward,  when  you  knocked 
down  this  puny  lad,  but  I  really  believe,  that  you 


26  AMBITION. 

would  as  leave  pitch  into  me,  if  you  had  no  crowd 
even  to  back  you." 

Ames  turned  from  him,  the  scowl  still  on  his 
handsome  face,  saying  :  ''  I'll  just  go  to  head-quar- 
ters ;  "  he  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  in  doing  so 
came  face  to  face  with  Van  Amburgh,  who  had 
witnessed  the  whole  thing,  unseen,  himself.  He 
addressed  Ames  thus  : 

"  Well,  my  fine  fellow,  you  are  now  at  head- 
quarters, let  me  hear  your  petition  ;"  then,  taking 
out  his  watch  to  see  the  time,  he  said,  "  I  have  yet 
a  few  moments  to  spare,  speak  quick  and  freely 
my  lad,"  and  he  extended  his  hand,  which  was 
grasped  heartily  by  young  Ames. 

"  Now,  sir,  you  ask  me  what  I  came  here  for. 
Well,  sir,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  join  your  cir- 
cus, if  you  will  have  me.  I  never  was  outside  this 
place,  and  am  anxious  to  make  a  name,  but  can't 
do  it  here,  so  I  will  go  with  you  sir,  if  you  please." 

Van  Amburgh  seemed  much  pleased  with  the 
lad,  invited  him  to  see  him  again  and  left  him. 

The  next  day  Ames  called  ;  was  received  pleas- 
antly, and  the  arrangements  made  to  take  him  with 
the  troupe  when  they  left. 

Ames  returned  home  with  a  light  heart,  but  no 
one  knew  of  his  intentions.  When  the  circus  left 
the  last  of  the  week,  Ames  was  nowhere  to  be 
found;   he  had  gone  with  the  circus. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

AMES    IN    HIS    NEW    ROLE. 

iNIES  soon  endeared  himself  to  all,  espe- 
W  cially  to  the  little  Rosa  that  we  first  saw 
'^'^^"^   in  Van  Amburgh's  circus. 

She  looked  up  to  him  for  everything  ;  he  was 
her  constant  companion,  and  often  rode  around  the 
ring  with  her  to  the  delight  of  an  immense  audi- 
ence— such  as  Van  Amburgh  was  sure  to  draw. 

Thus  three  years  passed,  and  the  brave  lad  had 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  world.  Whenever 
he  rode  or  acted,  it  was  with  such  ease  and  grace, 
that  the  whole  audience  applauded  enthusiastically 
as  he  bowed  his  proud  head  in  acknowledgment. 

One  night  while  Rosa  was  riding  around,  some 
mischievous  boy  threw  a  pack  of  lighted  fire- 
crackers before  the  horse,  which  reared  back  Im- 
mediately, then  plunged  forward  fearfully.  Ames 
was  at  his  post  in  a  second,  threw  himself  before 


28  AMBITION. 

the  frightened  animal,  and  held  the  bridle  with  a 
grip  of  iron.  The  audience  held  their  breath  in 
terrible  suspense  ;  but,  when  they  saw  the  coura- 
geous boy  was  safe,  they  arose  en  masse,  and  shouts 
of  applause  rent  the  air. 

Ames  lifted  the  little  frightened  child  from  the 
horse  and  carried  her  behind  the  curtain.  But  the 
people  were  not  satisfied  ;  they  shouted  until  he 
came  out  and  stood  before  them,  and  made  his  first 
speech  ;  then  the  furore  died  out. 

Neither  the  child  nor  Ames  made  their  appear- 
ance again  that  evening.  It  was  soon  discovered 
that  the  boy  had  dislocated  his  wrist,  and  the  phy- 
sician said  it  would  upset  him  for  some  time. 

But  the  boy  could  not  remain  inactive  ;  he  sold 
tickets  while  his  wrist  was  weak,  and,  rather  liking 
the  handling  of  money,  became  ticket  agent. 

Rosa  missed  him  very  much  in  her  rides.  Yet 
he  was  with  her  a  great  deal ;  he  humored  her  in 
every  whim,  and  they  were  still  on  the  most  inti- 
mate terms. 

About  this  time  there  joined  the  troupe  a  great 
burly  sort  of  a  boy,  who  took  special  delight  in 
annoying  Ames.  One  day  he  approached  the  latter 
in  a  swaggering  sort  of  way,  saying :  *'  I  say,  low- 
head,  I'd  like  to  take  a  round  with  you.  I'll  bet 
you  a  quarter  I  can  whip  the  d — 1  out  of  you !  " 


AMBITION.  29 

Ames  stood  for  some  time  looking  at  the  boy,  in 
silent  contempt.  At  last  he  spoke  :  "  Get  out,  you 
ugl}'  dog  ;  when  I  fight  it  must  be  with  my  equal," 
and  he  turned  his  back  upon  the  fighting  puppy, 
amid  roars  of  laughter  from  the  crowd  that  had 
gathered  to  see  the  sport,  for  there  were  bets  made 
that  the  "pet  of  the  ring"  could  beat  the  great 
bully. 

This  so  enraged  the  brutal  fellow,  that,  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  he  hurled  a  great  stone  at  the 
curly  head  of  Ames,  who  dodged  it  in  time,  and 
deliberately  walked  over  to  the  infuriated  boy,  and 
shook  him  by  the  shoulders,  then  walked  slowly 
away.  At  this  cool  exploit  a  deafening  shout  rent 
the  air. 

After  this  everything  gave  way  before  him. 
Wherever  he  went,  people  would  say:  "  That  fel- 
low has  pluck  enough ;  mind,  I  tell  you,  he'll  come 
out  bright  yet.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  wouldn't 
be  the  President  of  the  United  States  some  of  these 
days." 

Many  were  the  encomiums  bestowed  upon  our 
hero,  but  he  was  entirely  unconcerned,  and  went 
his  way  whistling,  with  his  hands  in  his  pocket. 


CHAPTER   V. 

AMES    TURNS    PEDDLER. 

|0ME  time  after  this,  as  Ames  was  sitting 
with  little  Rosa  in  one  of  the  seats  of  the 
tent,  he  seemed  to  be  in  deep  thought.  His 
head  rested  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  and  his  eyes 
were  riveted  upon  one  of  the  benches,  when  he 
was  aroused  from  his  deep  revery  by  Rosa  laying 
her  little  white  plump  hand  upon  his  head,  and  say- 
ing, gently:  "What  is  the  matter,  dear  Ames; 
does  your  head  hurt  you  ?  Let  me  rub  it  for  you, 
like  I  did  the  other  day." 

But  Ames  pushed  her  roughly  aside,  saying  : 
''  No,  my  head  does  not  hurt,  Rosa,  and  I  don't 
want  you  to  ask  me  any  questions.  I  wish  you 
would  leave  me." 

The  little  girl  threw  herself  down  on  the  bench, 
and  cried  bitterly.  For  some  time  he  took  no  no- 
tice of  her,  when  all  at  once  her  sobs  seemed  to 


AMBITION.  31 

reach  his  ear,  and  he  arose  and  kneeled  down  be- 
side her,  took  her  hand  gently  in  both  of  his,  and 
begged  her  to  forgive  his  rudeness.  He  wiped 
her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief,  and  kissed  away 
her  tears,  then  lifted  her  up  tenderly.  She  placed 
her  arms  around  his  neck  and  sobbed  aloud.  Ames 
could  not  comfort  her  for  some  time. 

When  this  paroxysm  of  grief  was  over,  he 
smoothed  her  thick  curls,  and  begged  her  to  tell 
him  what  was  the  matter,  that  it  was  now  his  turn 
to  question. 

"  Oh,  it  was  because  you  spoke  so  cross  to  me 
just  now.  You  know,  Ames,  that  I  have  no  one 
to  love  but  you.  My  father  has  been  dead  for 
years,  and  my  mother  left  me  to  the  mercy  of  these 
people,  who,  I  must  say,  have  been  very  kind  to 
me.  Mr.  Raymond,  the  ring-master,  is  just  like  a 
father,  and  when  I  was  little  he  used  to  take  me  In 
his  arms  and  cry  over  me  ;  he  certainly  must  know 
something  about  my  parents,  don't  you  think  so, 
Ames  ?  "  and  the  little  orphan  circus-rider  smiled 
through  her  tears,  as  the  boy  patted  her  on  the 
head,  saying  : 

"  Cheer  up,  little  girl,  I  will  always  be  your  friend ; 
but  I  am  thinking  strongly  about  leaving  here,  I 
am  getting  too  big  to  be  lounging  around.  Now, 
Rosa,  darling,  listen,"  and  the   boy  seated    Rosa 


32  AMBITION. 

Upon  the  bench,  and  kneeled  upon  one  knee  before 
her,  holding  her  tiny  hand,  as  he  said:  "I  believe 
I  was  made  for  something  better  than  this.  As  I 
was  lying  across  my  little  pallet  the  other  night,  the 
moon  shining  brightly  upon  me,  I  saw  a  man  ap- 
proach my  bed,  his  face  was  bright,  as  though 
he  were  smiling  upon  me.  I  kept  my  eyes  fixed 
intently  upon  him,  when  he  spoke,  in  a  low,  gentle 
voice  :  '  My  lad,  be  truthful,  be  gentle,  yet  be  bold  ; 
bear  and  forbear  ;  turn  your  back  upon  your  pres- 
ent vocation,  it  will  lead  to  nothing  ;  by  the  setting 
of  the  harvest  moon  hie  thee  away,  take  thy 
worldly  store  upon  thy  back,  and  travel  over  moun- 
tains and  across  rivers,  before  you  attempt  to  rest ; 
then  you  will  be  on  the  road  to  wealth.  Farewell.' 
"  The  man,  or  specter,  whatever  it  was,  vanished 
while  I  still  gazed  in  speechless  terror  upon  it.  I 
sprang  from  my  bed  and  rushed  to  the  door,  but 
found  it  securely  fastened.  I  ran  to  the  win- 
dow, but  saw  nothing  save  the  pale  moon's  beams. 
I  then  threw  myself  across  my  bed,  but  could  not 
sleep,  for  this  vision,  or  whatever  it  was,  was  be- 
fore me  constantly  ;  and  as  the  moon  is  on  the 
decline,  I  must  soon  take  my  leave  of  all  present 
and  pleasant  associations,  and  climb  the  steep  and 
rugged  hill  of  uncertainty,  which  I  know  is  very 
difficult;   but,   notwithstanding,  I   must  undertake 


AMBITION.  33 

the  task.  So,  my  dear  little  girl,  you  must  always 
think  kindly  of  me  ;  and  when  I  am  a  great  man,  I 
will  come  and  take  you  to  live  with  me,  and  you 
shall  be  my  little  sister."  With  these  words  of 
comfort  to  the  little  girl,  the  noble-hearted  boy 
arose  from  his  kneeling  position,  clasped  her  in 
his  arms,  and  kissed  her  as  tenderly  as  though  she 
was  his  own  sister,  and  bade  her  good-bye,  cau- 
tioning her  not  to  speak  to  any  one  of  his  depart- 
ure, and  he  would  soon  let  her  hear  from  him. 

Two  days  after  this  interview,  Ames  invested 
his  little  money  in  some  light  tin  and  metal  ware, 
and,  on  the  decHne  of  the  harvest  moon,  took  his 
little  worldly  stock,  and  left  that  part  of  the  country. 

True  to  the  prediction,  he  traveled  over  moun- 
tains and  valleys,  and  in  a  short  time  he  had  to 
replenish  his  little  stock,  so  great  was  the  demand 
for  his  wares. 

It  must  not  be  thought  for  an  instant  that  Ames 
was  standing  still,  either  in  age  or  beauty  ;  he  had 
improved  very  much  since  we  first  met  him.  He 
was  quite  tall,  and  very  compactly  built. 

Wherever  he  went  he  made  quite  a  sensation 
among  the  rustic  beauties.  The  young  peddler 
was  invited  to  all  their  entertainments.  Nothing 
was  complete  without  him  ;  and  Ames  became  very 
proud  of  his  popularity.  Some  would  have  It  that 
2  * 


34  AMBITION. 

he  was  a  prince  In  disguise,  which  joke  he  enjoyed 
hugely,  for  it  made  him  the  envy  of  all  the  young 
men.  The  girls  declared  that  he  was  too  gentle 
and  graceful  to  be  any  common  mortal,  and  all  vied 
with  each  other  in  dress,  to  captivate  the  *'  Prince 
of  Peddlers." 

Although  sorely  tempted,  Ames  did  not  forget 
his  little  absent  friend,  Rosa  ;  often  after  the  day's 
work  was  done,  would  he  stroll  along  the  side  of 
some  babbling  brook,  with  his  hands  crossed  be- 
hind him,  thinking  of  the  little  circus  rider,  and 
wondering  if  she  was  well  taken  care  of,  and  if  she 
was  thinking  of  him. 

During  one  of  his  evening  rambles,  just  as  he 
neared  the  brook,  he  heard  a  terrible  shriek,  and  a 
young  girl  darted  past  him  with  the  rapidity  qf 
lightning  ;  her  hands  were  thrown  up,  her  hair  was 
hanging  loosely  over  her  shoulders,  and  at  a  little 
distance,  the  cause  of  her  terror  was  apparent ;  this 
was  a  white-robed  figure,  flying  past  like  the  wind.. 

Ames  cried  at  the  top  of  his  voice:  "  Stop,  or  I'll 
shoot,"  but  the  figure  did  not  stop  or  heed  the 
warning,  and  Ames,  seeing  the  unfortunate  girl  leap 
into  the  water,  turned  his  attention  immediately  to 
her.  Although  the  brook  (like  all  other  noisy, 
babbling  things)  was  shallow,  yet  he  feared  she  had 
sustained  severe  injury  in  falling  upon  the  stones,  he 


AMBITION.  35 

Stooped  down  and  gently  raised  the  girl,  who  had 
fainted,  laid  her  upon  the  grass,  made  a  cup  of  his 
straw  hat  by  filling  It  with  water,  and  very  tenderly 
did  he  lave  her  throbbing  brow,  for  she  was  now 
conscious,  and  begged  him  not  to  let  the  ghost 
come  near  her. 

Ames  tried  to  calm  her  agitation  as  best  he  could, 
assuring  her  that  In  his  belief  there  was  no  such 
things  as  ghosts. 

'*  Oh !  but  I  know  It  was  a  ghost,"  said  the  poor 
girl,  "for  I  saw  nothing  until  I  got  Into  Farmer 
Brown's  woods,  when  something  tall  and  white 
sprung  up  before  me,  with  eyes  glaring  like  two 
balls  of  fire,  and  I  screamed  and  ran,  and  It  ran  too, 
and  It  followed  me  here ;  didn't  you  see  It,  Mr. 
Skiff?" 

"  Yes,  I  saw  something  white  chasing  you,  but  I 
thought  It  was  somebody  trying  to  frighten  you. 
Now,  If  you  are  able,  I  will  take  you  home,"  say- 
ing which,  he  gallantly  offered  his  arm,  which  she 
timidly  accepted,  and  in  due  time  they  reached 
home,  without  being  molested  in  any  way. 

Soon  the  story  of  the  ghost  was  circulated  through 
the  country,  and  the  part  that  Ames  enacted  In  this 
little  farce,  made  him  a  hero. 

So  he  came  to  the  conclusion  to  leave  the  place, 
before  the  good  Impression  had  died  out. 


36  AMBITION. 

Therefore,  when  the  farmer's,  wife  with  whom  he 
had  been  Hving  since  his  advent  among  them, 
tapped  at  his  room  door,  to  announce  breakfast, 
receiving  no  answer,  cautiously  turned  the  knob 
and  entered  the  room,  she  found  it  empty.  Seeing 
the  bed  had  not  been  occupied,  she  ran  down  stairs 
hastily,  and  astonished  the  inmates  of  the  kitchen 
with  the  news  ;  they  stared  in  blank  astonishment 
at  the  poor  woman,  who  burst  into  tears,  with  the 
words  :  ''  Oh !  oh !  he  must  have  been  murdered, 
you  know  he  was  so  venturesome,  he  didn't  mind 
ghosts,  nor  nothing  ;  I'm  sure  he's  got  killed — Oh  ! 
Oh  !  Oh  !  "  She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and 
wept  aloud. 


CHAPTER     VI 


the 


THE    ENCOUNTER    WITH    THE    GHOST. 

HE  news  spread  like  wildfire,  and,  In  a  little 
^  time,  the  house  was  fairly  besieged  with 
persons  eager  to  view  the  chamber  where 
hero  had  so  often  rested.  And  minutely  did 
they  examine  the  pillow,  whereon  rested  his  head, 
with  Its  wealth  of  golden  curls. 

The  walls  were  sounded,  to  see  If  they  could 
find  a  hollow  spot  where  a  burglar  could  enter ; 
but,  finding  none,  the  mystery  seemed  to  deepen. 
They  calculated  the  risk  of  a  leap  from  the  win- 
dow ;  then  they  examined  minutely  the  grass,  di- 
rectly under  said  window ;  nothing  was  discovered. 
Thus,  the  whole  day  was  spent  In  Idle  conjectures. 
Then  Farmer  Brown  spoke  up  :  "  I  say,  lads,  the 
only  thing,  and  the  best  thing  we  can  do,  is  to 
turn  out  in  a  body,  with  clubs  and  guns,  and  scour 
the  woods  ;  for  maybe  that  that  tarnal  ghost  has 


38  AMBITION. 

something  or  other  to  do  with  this  mysterious  dis- 
appearance of  young  Skiff.  It  would  be  terrible  to 
have  a  fellow  run  off  with,  and  we  left  in  ignor- 
ance of  his  whereabouts.  So  now  disperse,  and 
get  your  suppers,  and  with  your  arms  in  your  strong 
hands,  meet  me  here,  and  I'll  lead  you  ;  and  I'll 
bet  my  best  cow  that  no  ghosts  will  follow  us." 

Accordingly,  at  the  time  specified,  a  large  party 
of  strong  men  set  out  to  scour  the  woods.  They 
had  not  proceeded  far,  when  a  sight  met  their 
gaze,  which  made  their  blood  run  cold.  They  had 
been  led  in  that  direction  by  groans  and  fierce 
imprecations,  hurled  upon  some  imaginary  enemy. 

When  they  reached  the  spot  from  whence  these 
sounds  proceeded,  a  horrible  spectacle  presented 
itself  In  the  person  of  the  ghost,  who  was  stretched 
full  length  upon  the  ground,  gnashing  his  teeth, 
and  moaning  piteously  one  moment,  and  the  next, 
cursing  and  raving  like  a  maniac.  In  his  thin 
white  hand,  he  held  some  light  hair,  which  showed 
he  had  been  in  conflict  with  something  material. 
When  he  saw  the  crowd  bending  over  him,  he 
shook  this  tuft  of  hair  in  their  faces,  and  tried  to 
rise,  but  fell  back  insensible.  Then  Farmer 
Brown  suggested,  that  while  In  that  state,  he 
should  be  bound  with  strong  cords,  and  conveyed 
to  his  house.     When  they  laid  hands  upon  him  to 


AMBITION.  39 

bind  him,  they  thought  they  would  let  fall  the 
sheet,  but  found,  to  their  great  astonishment,  that 
he  was  entirely  naked.  They  wrapped  it  strongly 
around  him,  bound  him  with  cords,  and  carried 
him  into  the  house,  while  a  few  went  in  search  of 
the  missing  peddler. 

When  the  party  reached  the  old  farm-house, 
they  laid  their  insensible  burden  on  the  bed  of 
poor  Ames,  and,  upon  examining  the  inanimate 
form,  it  was  found  to  be  terribly  lacerated.  The 
country  physician  was  called  in  immediately,  and 
instantly  recognized  the  poor  man  as  a  harmless 
lunatic,  the  younger  brother  of  Mr.  Penn,  the 
only  aristocrat  among  the  simple  countrymen. 

The  doctor  discovered  that  there  was  a  severe 
gash  near  the  right  temple,  and  another  one  just 
behind  the  ear,  which  was  bleeding  profusely.  He 
refused  to  staunch  the  flow,  as  the  farmer  wanted 
him  to  do  ;  for,  said  he  :  "This  is  the  crisis.  When 
he  recovers,  he  will  either  be  a  raving  maniac  or  a 
rational  being  ;  but,  in  the  meantime,  have  you 
found  any  trace  of  the  fugitive,  for  the  supposition 
is  that  he  has  fled  ?  " 

At  this  moment,  there  was  heard  a  heavy  groan 
from  the  bed,  and  the  doctor  took  the  hand  of  the 
sufferer,  and  felt  the  pulse,  when  a  pleased  smile: 
lit  up  his  whole  countenance,  and  he  proceeded  at 


40  AMBITION. 

once  to  staunch  the  blood  and  bathe  the  face  In 
vinegar.  Soon  the  poor  man  opened  his  eyes,  and 
fixed  them  intently  upon  the  doctor,  who  asked, 
gently,  ''  What  is  it,  my  poor  fellow?  " 

To  which  he  replied  :  *'  Where  am  I,  sir?"  The 
doctor  was  overjoyed  when  he  saw  that  reason  had 
resumed  its  sway,  and  told  him  that  he  had  been 
hurt  in  coming  through  the  woods. 

He  closed  his  eyes  wearily,  and  seemed  to  sleep 
all  through  while  his  wounds  were  being  dressed. 

The  doctor  insisted  upon  Farmer  Brown  leaving 
the  room  ;  and,  sitting  with  his  watch  in  his  hand, 
he  awaited  the  result  of  his  awakening.  It  was 
a  good  three  hours  before  he  awoke,  and  asked 
feebly  for  a  drink,  which  the  doctor  immediately 
gave  in  the  form  of  water  dashed  with  brandy  ; 
he  then  inquired  of  the  doctor  whether  his 
brother  was  there  when  he  was  thrown  from  his 
horse. 

The  doctor  humored  him  in  the  belief  that  he 
was  thrown  from  his  horse,  and  sent  a  message 
forthwith  to  Mr.  Penn  to  lose  no  time  in  coming. 

When  the  news  reached  the  great  house,  as  it 
was  called,  they  found  the  utmost  consternation 
prevailing  there.  Some  time  elapsed  before  the 
messenger  could  make  them  understand  that  the 
young  man  was  at  Farmer  Brown's  and  alive,  for 


AMBITION.  41 

they  were  under  the  impression  that  he  had  de- 
stroyed himself. 

Mr.  Penn  and  his  oldest  daughter  immediately 
repaired  to  the  farm-house,  and  were  met  at  the 
door  by  Mrs.  Brown,  who  took  them  forthwith  on 
tiptoe  up  to  the  chamber' where  lay  the  beloved 
brother  and  uncle.  The  doctor  placed  his  finger 
upon  his  lips  in  caution,  and  they  entered  in  dread 
silence.  Mr.  Penn  grasped  the  hand  of  the  doc- 
tor, while  his  daughter  approached  the  bed  and 
took  up  the  thin  white  hand  of  the  sufferer, 
who  awoke  at  the  slight  touch,  and  murmured 
''Annie!  " 

Annie  was  astonished  at  hearing  her  uncle  call 
her  name,  and  threw  herself  upon  her  knees,  cry- 
ing :  "  Papa,  papa,  uncle  knows  me  !  "  and  she  hid 
her  face  in  the  counterpane  and  wept. 

The  poor  man  placed  his  hand  gently  upon  her 
head,  and  said,  "  Why,  Annie!  I  always  knew  you. 
Why  do  you  weep  ?  " 

Mr.  Penn  approached  the  bed,  took  his  brother's 
hand,  and,  at  a  look  from  the  doctor,  said  :  ''  Why, 
Will,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  are  so  much  better. 
You  have  been  quite  ///. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  invalid,  '*I  have  had  a 
severe  fall.     Was  my  horse  killed,  doctor  ?  " 

The  doctor  said,  "  Oh,  yes  ;  he  was  killed  in- 


42  AMBITION. 

stantly."  And  the  poor  fellow  said  that  he  was 
sorry,  for  he  valued  him  highly. 

Annie  arose  from  her  kneeling  posture,  and  her 
father  handed  her  a  chair,  and  she  sat  holding  her 
uncle's  hand  in  one  of  hers,  while  with  the  other 
she  smoothed  back  his* glossy  brown  hair  from  his 
high  marble  brow,  ever^and  anon  imprinting  a  kiss 
thereon,  and  murmuring,  ''  God  be  thanked  !  " 

"•  Now,  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Penn,  ''  I'm  thinking 
that  your  services  will  be  required  at  our  house  ; 
for,  some  time  before  your  messenger  arrived,  my 
men  brought  in  a  strange  youth,  dreadfully  bruised 
and  unconscious.  My  wife  and  children  did  all  in 
their  power  for  him,  and  when  we  left,  he  had  re- 
covered consciousness,  and  said  that  he  must  pro- 
ceed on  his  journey  immediately.  But  my  family 
insisted  upon  him  remaining  quiet.  He  seemed 
extremely  nervous,  and  anxious  to  get  away  ; 
but  I  had  my  suspicions  aroused,  so  I  adminis- 
tered a  sleeping  potion,  and  left  him  under  its 
effects.  When  can  my  brother  be  removed, 
doctor  ?  " 

*'  Not  for  many  days,  I  fear,  Mr.  Penn.  He 
must  be  kept  quiet  for  at  least  a  week,  and  must 
not  be  permitted  to  see  the  woods,  nor  the  cham- 
ber wherein  he  was  confined,  but  we  can  leave  him 
in  good  hands.     I  fear  nothing  serious  now,  if  he 


AMBITION.  43 

remains  quiet.  We  will  proceed  to  your  house  ;" 
and  they  left,the  house  together. 

When  they  entered  the  chamber  of  the  youth, 
to  the  great  astonishment  of  the  doctor,  he  found 
Ames  Skiff,  the  missing  peddler,  who,  when  he 
awoke,  explained  his  sudden  disappearance  In  this 
wise  : 

He  said,  that  when  he  reached  the  woods  he  was 
accosted  by  this  white-robed  figure,  and  thinking 
it  was  some  one  playing  a  trick  upon  him,  he  grap- 
pled with  him  ;  but  soon,  to  his  dismay,  found 
himself  with  a  madman.  The  struggle,  he  said, 
was  terrible,  and  finally,  with  one  sure  blow  with  a 
piece  of  metal,  he  laid  his  antagonist  prone  upon 
the  ground,  crawled  away  from  the  scene  of  this 
deadly  conflict,  and,  when  at  some  distance,  fell 
from  exhaustion.  When  he  opened  his  eyes  to 
consciousness,  he  was  in  a  comfortable  bed,  and  a 
lady  sitting  by  him,  fanning  and  wiping  the  blood 
from  his  face. 


CHAPTER   VII 


''  RICHARD    IS    HIMSELF    AGAIN. 

KY  close  attention  and  the  tenderest  care  Will 


Penn — the  poor,  unfortunate  lunatic,  who 
played  the  part  of  the  ghost,  which  nearly 
cost  his  life-^(and  yet  that  seemingly  unfortunate 
affair  was  the  means  of  making  him  once  more  a 
man  among  men),  for  the  continual  flow  of  blood 
that  weakened  him  nigh  unto  death,  caused  reason 
to  resume  its  sway,  and  in  three  weeks  from  the 
time  of  the  occurrence,  he  was  enabled  to  walk 
among  men  as  their  equal. 

Great  was  the  joy  and  surprise  of  the  family, 
when  he  was  ushered  In  their  midst  by  his  brother, 
who  humored  him  in  the  delusion  that  he  was 
thrown  from  his  horse  and  very  much  injured,  and 
the  doctor  would  not  allow  him  to  come  home  until 
he  was  entirely  convalescent. 


AMBITION.  45 

They  all  agreed  that  the  doctor  was  right,  and 
they  each  in  turn  grasped  the  hand  of  Will  Penn, 
and  kindly  seated  him  in  a  large  arm-chair. 

He  had  scarcely  been  seated  ten  minutes  when 
Ames  Skiff  entered,  and  Annie  introduced  her  Uncle 
Will  to  him. 

Will  shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand — said  he 
was  glad  to  meet  him,  and  the  family  were  over- 
joyed at  finding  that  Ames  was  not  recognized  by 
him  as  his  antagonist  of  that  fearful  night. 

The  evening  passed  off  pleasantly,  and  after  the 
family  had  retired,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Penn  sat  by  the 
open  window,  when  the  following  conversation  took 
place  : 

"  I  say,  little  mother!  my  heart  feels  as  light  as 
the  down  of  a  thistle  to-night — don't  yours  ?  " 

Mrs.  Penn  laid  her  white,  well-shaped  hand  on 
her  husband's  arm,  and  answered  in  a  whisper  : 

'*  Now,  dear  husband,  you  may  judge  my  feelings 
by  your  own ;  I  am  very  light-hearted  and  happy,  for 
only  to  think  that  after  three  years  of  fearful  ravings 
on  the  part  of  poor  Will  (by  a  miracle,  as  it  seems), 
to-night  he  stands  before  us  a  rational  being !  Oh, 
have  we  not  enouQ^h  to  be  thankful  for  this  nio^ht  ?  " 

*'  Now,  dear,  I  am  just  thinking  how  we  shall  re- 
ward this  young  fellow  ;  had  it  not  been  for  his 
bold  repulse  and  presence  of  mind,  poor  Will  would 


46  AMBITION. 

not  now  be  a  rational  being.  Now  don't  you  think 
If  I  make  him  a  present,  he  will  go  on  his  way  re- 
joicing? " 

"  No,  husband  ;  I  do  not  think  it  would  be  suffi- 
cient for  such  an  act  and  such  a  young  man  ;  but, 
come,  let  us  to  bed,  and  dream  on  it."  So  saying 
Mrs.  Penn  arose  and  made  preparations  for  retir- 
ing. 

The  next  morning  all  the  family  were  assembled 
at  breakfast,  with  the  exception  of  Ames.  Mrs. 
Penn  sent  a  servant  to  his  room  to  ask  if  he  was 
indisposed  ;  the  girl  returned  with  a  note  in  her 
hand,  that  she  had  found  lying  upon  the  dressing- 
table.  The  room  had  not  been  occupied  since 
the  night  before.  Mr.  Penn  took  the  letter,  and 
read  : 

'*  Mr.  Penn  : — I  write  these  few  lines  to  thank 
yourself  and  family  for  the  kind  consideration 
which  has  been  shown  to  a  poor  peddler,  who  will 
always  hold  you  In  the  highest  esteem  and  grateful 
remembrance.  Please  do  not  think  hard  of  me  on 
account  of  my  abrupt  departure.  I  could  not  think 
of  intruding  longer  upon  your  hospitality.      Adieu. 

-AMES  SKIFF." 

"  Well,  wife,  this  beats  all  for  a  poor  peddler. 
There's  good  blood  In  that  boy's  veins.     He's  no 


AMBITION.  47 

common  lad,  I  tell  you.  But,  this  will  never  do. 
He  must  be  richly  compensated.  We  must  find 
him,  somewhere.  He  cannot  have  such  a  great 
start  of  us  ;  so,  after  breakfast,  we  will  all  join  in 
the  hunt,  and  bring  the  stag  to  bay." 

Will  wanted  to  know  what  the  matter  could  be, 
when  his  brother  told  him  that  their  young  guest 
had  suddenly  departed  for  parts  unknown,  and 
that  he  was  going  to  mount  his  fleetest  horse  and 
go  in  pursuit. 

After  breakfast,  they  went  in  pursuit  of  Ames, 
but  it  proved  fruitless,  and  by  dinner-time  they 
returned,  completely  exhausted  with  the  chase. 

So  ended  the  second  disappearance  of  the  gal- 
lant peddler. 


CHAPTER     VIII. 

"  HE    TOLD    ME    NOT   TO    TELL. 

E  must  now  leave  our  hero  to  wend  his 
E  way  through  the  intricate  windings  of 
those  dense  woods  and  the  narrow  passes 
of  the  mountains  alone,  with  his  thoughts  of  ambi- 
tion arid  the  recollection  of  the  thrillinof  adventure 
with  the  lunatic,  on  the  first  attempt  to  rid  himself 
(as  he  thought)  of  a  life  of  indulgence  and  pleasure. 
It  was  now  about  four  years  since  Ames  left  the 
paternal  roof  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  world. 
The  morning  after  the  circus  left  the  little  hamlet, 
search  was  made  for  him.  The  mother's  quick  eye 
noticed  something  painful  in  the  countenance  of 
the  pet  sister.  She  questioned  the  child  closely, 
on  several  occasions,  but  elicited  nothing ;  at 
last,  the  little  one  gave  way  to  melancholy,  and 
refused  even  her  daily  food.  She  became  dread- 
fully   emaciated.      The     doctor's     services    were 


AMBITION.  49 

brought  into  requisition,  when  one  day  he  kindly 
took  her  hand,  and  told  her  that  if  she  did  not  tell 
him  what  was  on  her  mind  that  his  medicines  would 
do  no  ofood,  and  she  wQuld  die,  and  be  buried 
down  In  the  deep  ground,  and  would  never  see 
Ames  again.  At  this  announcement  the  child  be- 
came dreadfully  agitated,  and  told  the  physician 
that  Ames  told  her  not  to  tell. 

But  the  good  doctor  told  her  that  she  should  be 
exonerated  from  all  blame  ;  that  it  was  to  save  her 
life  that  she  must  disclose  the  secret,  and  the  blame 
would  rest  upon  him. 

So  the  poor  frightened  child  disclosed  the  (as 
she  thought)  terrible  secret,  and  the  kind  doctor 
assured  her  that  no  harm  should  befell  her,  that  he 
would  make  it  all  right  with  her  parents ;  after 
whlqh  he  administered  a  sleeping  potion,  and  soon 
the  poor  little  creature  fell  off  into  a  doze. 

The  doctor  went  down  in  the  kitchen,  where 
Mrs.  Skiff  was  hard  at  work,  and  relieved  her  mind 
of  its  anxious  load,  by  telling  her  of  the  important 
secret  the  little  girl  had  faithfully  kept  locked 
up  in  her  heart,  while  her  body  was  wasting  away. 

The  great  tears  rolled  down  the  poor  woman's 
cheeks  as  she  listened,  for  Ames  was  her  favor- 
ite child. 

The  doctor  tried  to  comfort  her,  by  assuring  her 


5o  AMBITION. 

that  there  was  metal  enough  in  the  boy  to  make  a 
great  man  some  day  ;  that  he  was  once  with  the 
circus,  and  had  never  regretted  it. 

When  the  news  became  generally  known,  the 
neighbors,  of  course,  passed  their  several  opinions. 
The  majority,  upon  cool  deliberation,  were  unani- 
mous in  the  belief  that  Ames  would  make  a  great 
man,  and  that  the  little  hamlet  should  be  proud  of 
such  a  lad. 

The  girls  of  the  neighborhood  were  very  kind 
to  the  child,  and  every  day  brought  som.e  little 
delicacy,  and  fresh  flowers  to  set  her  neat  little 
chamber  off,  and  under  this  kind  treatment  she 
soon  recovered.  But  when  she  was  led  over  the 
places  where  -she  had  last  seen  her  brother,  she 
would  cover  her  face  with  her  apron  and  weep 
aloud  ;  but,  after  a  while,  this  wore  off,  and  she  re- 
sumed her  usual  ofaietv. 

One  daya  letter  was  received  from  Ames,  telling 
his  mother  not  to  fear  for  him,  that  he  was  safe  ; 
but  it  would  be  useless  to  look  for  him,  as  he  did 
not  intend  coming  home  until  he  had  made  some 
money. 

"  Well,"  said  the  poor  woman,  "  I  must  put  my 
trust  In  the  Lord,  and  wait." 


CHAPTER    IX. 


AMY     SUTTON. 

^  ^N  the  office  of  a  prominent  Western  lawyer 
n('/^  ^^^  ^^^^  young  men,  discussing  the  current 
^^3  reports  of  the  day. 

''  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Milton,  if  that  fellow 
comes  into  the  club,  it  will  be  the  making  of  the 
boys  ;  for  everything  he  seems  to  touch  turns  into 
gold.  I  was  present  when  he  won  that  heavy  bet, 
lagt  night ;  and  he  coolly  put  it  into  his  pocket,  and 
as  coolly  lighted  his  cigar,  and  walked  off,  as  though 
it  was  an  every-day  occurrence." 

Milton  Smith  drew  his  chair  up  in  front  of  his 
companion,  and  leaned  over  towards  him  in  a 
confidential  way,  saying,  in  an  audible  whisper  : 
*'  Did  you  notice  with  what  perfect  sangfroid  he 
took  those  papers  from  Peter  Welch,  that  informed 
him  of  his  heavy  losses  ?  " 

''  I    tell    you,  Milton,  that    he's    a   trump  worth 


52  AMBITION. 

throwing ;  so  we  had  better  ingratiate  ourselves 
into  his  favor  at  once,  if  we  want  to  do  anything 
with  him." 

"  How  old  do  you  suppose  he  is  ?  "  asked  Milton. 

"  Why,  I  should  not  take  him  to  be  over  twenty 
at  the  farthest ;  but  age  matters  little,  it's  the  tact 
— the  tact  the  man  has,  that  I  admire.  We  must 
edge  ourselves  in  his  way  somehow,"  and  as  he 
said  these  words  Henry  DeBar  arose  and  paced 
the  floor  uneasily,  while  Milton  Smith  still  retained 
his  seat  in  silence. 

A  timid  knock  was  heard  at  the  door  and  Henry 
DeBar  shouted,  *'  Come  in,"  when  a  young  girl 
entered.  She  was  dressed  very  plainly,  in  deep 
mourning  ;  the  young  men  could  not  see  her  face, 
for  she  wore  a  thick  veil ;  a  thin  black  shawl  was 
drawn  tightly  over  her  shoulders  to  keep  out  the 
intense  cold.  As  she  advanced  into  the  room  Mil- 
ton arose  Immediately  and  politely  offered  her  a 
chair. 

When  she  had  been  seated  some  time,  she  asked 
in  a  sweet  voice  if  Mr.  DeBar  was  In.  That  gentle- 
man, hearing  his  name  mentioned,  came  forward 
and  told  her  that  he  was  the  owner  of  that  name, 
and  would  be  pleased  to  serve  her  in  any  way. 
She  said  that  she  was  looking  for  employment, 
and  had  been  referred  to  him. 


AMBITION.  5^ 

Henry  stood  before  her,  playing  with  his  watch 
chain,  trying  hard  to  get  a  gHmpse  of  her  face,  for 
he  thought  that  a  woman  with  such  a  sweet  voice 
must  have  a  pretty  face.  And  the  ruse  that  he 
resorted  to  was  to  ask  her  to  give  him  a  sample  of 
her  writing.  He  immediately  placed  pen,  ink,  and 
paper  before  her ;  of  course,  she  threw  back  her 
veil,  and  Henry  gave  a  perceptible  start  when  he 
beheld  such  exquisite  beauty  ;  but  when  she  took 
the  old  black  kid  glove  off  her  hand,  he  was  sur- 
prised, to  say  the  least,  at  the  symmetry  and  white- 
ness of  it,  as  she  took  the  pen  from  his  hand. 

After  she  had  given  him  a  specimen  of  her  pen- 
manship, she  drew  on  the  old  glove  and  let  fall  her 
veil,  much  to  the  disappointment,  of  Henry,  who 
was  perfectly  captivated  with  the  fair  vision.  He 
examined  the  writing  and  said  he  was  much  pleased, 
a.nd  he  would  certainly  employ  her.  She  arose 
and  thanked  him  ;  then  ventured  to  ask  him  if 
he  would  send  the  writing  to  her  house,  which 
he  gallantly  promised  to  do,  and  Amy  Sutton  took 
her  leave,  after  giving  him  her  address. 


CHAPTER    X. 

HENRY    IN    SEARCH    OF    ONE    THING     FINDS    ANOTHER. 


^  XT  was  on   a  stormy  day  in   December  that 
^n^.      Henry  DeBar  sat  in  his  cozy  office,  read- 


ing the  morning  paper.  The  night  be- 
fore a  most  brutal  and  unprovoked  assault  had 
been  made  upon  one  of  the  "  American  Club  "  (of 
which  Henry  was  a  member)  while  going  through 
an  unfrequented  place.  The  watchman,  hearing 
faint  cries  for  assistance,  hurried  to  the  spot  from 
whence  they  proceeded,  and  found  a  man  standing 
over  the  prostrate  figure,  with  a  long  shining  dirk- 
knife  ready  to  strike  the  already  lacerated  victim. 
The  watchman  crept  up  behind  him,  and  quick  as 
lightning,  threw  the  uplifted  hand  aside  ;  and  the 
man  did  not  stop  to  secure  the  weapon,  but  took 
the  benefit  of  the  time  offered,  and  made  his  es- 
cape. The  watchman  called  for  help,  lifted  the 
wounded  man,  who  was  unconscious  ;  and  with 
the  help  of  two    stout  men  carried  him  into  the 


AMBITION.  55 

nearest  house,  which  was  readily  opened  to  re- 
ceive the  unfortunate.  The  ugly  dirk  knife  was 
found  and  brought  in  the  house  also.  A  physician 
was  called  in  and  dressed  the  wounds,  which  were 
pronounced  not  fatal.  . 

The  next  morning,  the  papers  were  teeming  with 
the  news  of  the  "  murder  of  Ashton  Moore,"  and  at 
an  early  hour,  the  house  where  the  wounded  man 
lay,  was  literally  besieged  by  inquisitive  people. 

Henry  DeBar  was  horrified ;  he  laid  down  the 
paper  and  took  from  its  peg  his  great  brown  over- 
coat, buttoning  it  tightly  up  to  his  chin,  setting  up 
the  fur  collar  to  protect  his  throat,  and  started  out  in 
the  storm  to  find,  as  best  he  could,  the  place  where 
his  friend  lay. 

He  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he  was  accosted 
by  a  little  girl,  who  touched  him  upon  the  arm 
with  her  thin  wan  hand,  and,  in  a  sickly,  trembling 
voice,  asked  for  a  few  cents  to  buy  her  starving 
little  brother  and  sister  food. 

Henry  was  about  to  pass  on,  so  deeply  engross- 
ed was  he  thinking  about  his  friend,  when  he  en- 
countered a  pair  of  the  mildest  blue  eyes,  one  min- 
ute only,  for  the  next  they  were  closed,  and  the  starv- 
ing girl  fell  prone  upon  the  frozen  ground.  Henry 
rushed  towards  her,  but  it  was  too  late  to  keep  her 
from  falling. 


56  AMBITION. 

There  lay  before  the  strong,  well-fed  man,  aheap 
of  raos,  for  it  did  not  seem  like  a  human  beinor.  The 
hand  that  had  arrested  his  progress  was  a  little  at- 
tenuated thing ;  the  features  were  pinched  with 
distress  and  hunger.  Around  her  slight  figure  was 
wrapped  a  piece  of  a  shawl,  and  her  feet  were  in- 
cased in  a  pair  of  thin  slippers,  tied  up  at  the  heel 
with  a  string. 

Such  was  the  little  waif  that  Henry  DeBar  picked 
up  in  his  strong  arms,  and  carried  back  to  his  ofhce, 
where  he  laid  her  upon  four  chairs  that  he  made 
into  a  bed ;  he  sprinkled  her  face  with  cold  water 
and  rubbed  her  little  hands  ofentlv,  until  he  was  re- 
warded  by  seeing  the  child  open  her  wonderful 
eyes,  and  look  intently  upon  him.  She  essayed  to 
speak,  but  was  too  weak. 

Henrv  bethouorht  him  of  some  wine  that  he  had 
in  his  closet,  and  he  soon  held  a  glass  to  the  trem- 
bling lips  of  the  little  girl.  To  his  great  delight, 
she  seemed  to  revive  and  wished  to  tell  him  some- 

thinor. 
<_> 

He  kneeled  before  her,  takinor  her  litde  hand  in 
one  ^of  his,  while  with  the  other  he  gently  raised 
her  head,  saying :  ''  Now,  little  one,  tell  me  all  you 
want  to  tell ;   I'll  stand  by  you,  don't  be  afraid." 

''  Sir,  will  you  take  me  home  ?  My  little  brother 
mav  be  dead  now.     I  came  out  this  morning  to  get 


AMBITION.  57 

a  little  something  for  him  to  eat,  but  everybody  that 
I  asked  pushed  me  roughly  off,  and  when  I  met 
you,  I  thought  you  were  going  to  do  the  same. 
Oh !  I  am  so  thankful  that  you  did  not  ;"  and  the 
confiding  little  half-starved  creature  clasped  her 
hands  together,  and  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  say- 
ing :  ''  Oh,  my  mother  !  why  did  you  not  take  me 
with  you  when  you  left  this  world !  '^ 

Henry  was  deeply  affected,  for  he  had  never 
been  brought  face  to  face  with  gaunt  poverty  before. 
He  took  the  waif  in  his  arms  and  held  her  little  cold 
feet  to  the  cheerful  fire,  until  they  were  nice  and 
warm,  then  he  arranged  her  snugly  in  the  chair, 
so  that  no  accident  would  happen  before  he  re- 
turned ;  told  her  to  lie  perfectly  quiet,  and  he 
closed  the  door  gently  and  was  gone. 

When  he  returned  he  brought  a  thick  pair  of 
shoes,  a  nice  warm  pair  of  stockings,  and  a  large 
warm  cloak  ;  he  then  placed  the  little  waif  in  a  car- 
riage which  was  filled  with  eatables,  wdiich  made 
her  open  her  blue  eyes  in  astonishment.  The 
great  tears  chased  each  other  down  her  wan  cheek, 
and  the  little  head  sank  back  on  Henry's  breast, 
who  told  her  that  she  should  have  a  big  brother 
now,  as  well  as  a  little  one. 

By  this  time,  they  reached  the  miserable  house. 
When  the  carriage  stopped,  Henry  took  the  waif 


58  AMBITION. 

in  his  arms  and  carried  her  up  two  or  three  pairs  of 
old  rickety  stairs.  When  they  entered  a  sad  specta- 
cle met  his  eye.  Upon  a  pallet  of  straw  lay  a  mere 
skeleton  of  a  once  beautiful  boy.  And  on  the  bare 
floor  beside  him  lay  a  little  girl  of  three  years,  who 
had  fallen  asleep  crying  for  bread,  but  not  a  crumb 
could  be  seen. 

Henry  had  made  provision  for  the  little  mother- 
less ones.  At  the  noise  which  the  party  made  enter- 
ing (for  the  coachman  had  brought  the  things  out 
of  the  coach)  the  baby  awoke,  and  immediately 
tottered  to  little  Maggie,  laughing  and  holding 
on  to  her  ;  the  boy  opened  his  languid  eyes,  and 
uttering  one  word:  ''Sister,"  closed  them  again 
seemingly  to  all  earthly  objects. 

The  coachman,  who  was  much  affected,  ran  for 
fresh  w^ater,  which  Maggie  told  him  where  to  find. 
In  the  meantime,  she  gave  the  baby  some  cake, 
which  quieted  her  directly,  for  she  was  only  hun- 
gry- 

When    the  coachman    returned,   Henry   dashed 

some  water  with  brandy,  which  he  had  brought,  and 
gave  it  to  the  poor  boy,  then  washed  his  face  and 
hands  in  brandy  and  water.  The  little  fellow  was 
soon  resuscitated,  and,  seeing  his  services  were  no 
longer  wanted,  Henry  gave  Maggie  a  few  dollars, 
and    charged    her  not  to  go  out  again    until"  she 


AMBITION.  59 

heard  from  him.  Seeing  a  good  pile  of  chips 
in  one  corner  he  knew  that  they  would  not 
freeze,  and  he  had  brought  enough  with  him  for 
them  to  eat.  So  he  kissed  them  all,  and  carefully 
descended  the  old  rickety  stairs.  Henry  did  not 
go  back  to  the  office,  nor  did  he  go  in  search  of 
the  wounded  friend.  But  the  coach  turned  down 
a  quiet  street,  and  stopped  at  the  door  of  a  small, 
neat  brown  cottage.  He  stepped  out,  and  knocked 
at  the  door,  which  was  opened  by  our  sweet  friend. 
Amy  Sutton,  who  blushed  as  he  handed  her  his 
hand,  for  hitherto  Henry  had  been  very  reserved 
with  her.  Whenever  he  would  bring  her  writing, 
he  would  merely  bow,  and  give  directions  about  the 
work  and  leave. 

Amy  was  surprised  at  his  cordiality,  and  when 
he  craved  a  few  moment's  private  conversation,  she 
wondered  what  it  could  be. 

However,  she  was  soon  relieved  of  all  embar- 
rassment, for  he  frankly  told  her  that  he  had 
assumed  the  responsibility  of  three  orphan  chil- 
dren, and  begged  her  to  leave  off  writing  and  take 
full  charge  of  them.  He  said  he  knew  it  was  a 
great  responsibility,  but  he  would  compensate  her 
well,  and  he  knew  that  she  would  love  the  little 
family. 

She    promised    that  she   would  visit  them  with 


6o  AMBITION. 

him  the  next  day  ;  he  pressed  the  Httle  hand,  and 
with  a  God-bless-you,  left  the  house. 

At  an  early  hour  the  next  morning,  Henry  went 
in  search  of  his  wounded  friend,  whom  he  found  in 
a  precarious  condition.  Several  members  of  the 
club  had  offered  a  large  sum  for  the  apprehension 
of  the  would-be  murderer,  but,  as  yet,  no  clue  was 
found.  It  was  certainly  not  for  gain,  for  his  watch 
and  money  were  found  upon  his  person. 

We  must  leave  this  affair  entirely  surrounded  in 
mystery,  and  see  some  other  parties  whom  we  have 
lost  the  trail  of  for  some  years. 


CHAPTER     XI 


^w^^ 


THE    PENN    BROTHER^. 


ig^r^lLL  PENN  was  sitting  in  the  library  one 
C%^  morning,  before  a  cheerful  anthracite  coal 
fire,  into  which  he  was  gazing  as  if  he  ex- 
pected some  one  to  leap  out  of  It.  His  large  New- 
foundland dog,  ''  Prince,"  lay  stretched  out  upon 
the  hearth-rug,  his  eyes  were  blinking  at  the  fire, 
and  every  now  and  then  he  would  lift  his  large, 
heavy  ears,  as  though  he  heard  a  far-off  step. 

Presently,  Will  Penn  said  :  ''  What  is  it,  Prince? 
Is  he  coming  ?  " 

Prince  arose  slowly,  and  shook  his  shaggy  coat, 
then  approached  his  master  and  laid  his  head  upon 
his  knee.  Will  patted  him  fondly,  when  suddenly 
Prince  sniffed  and  whined,  then  gave  a  bound 
towards  the  door,  and  scratched  and  howled  to 
get  out. 

By  this  time  Will's  quick  ear  caught  the  sound 


62  AMBITION. 

of  carriage  wheels.  He  opened  the  door  quickly, 
when  Prince  sprang  out  of  it,  and  dashed  down 
the  road,  barking  furiously,  while  the  voice  of  his 
master  was  heard  saying  :  "  What  is  it,  Prince  ? 
what  is  it  ?  " 

At  that  moment  a  loud  report  of  a  gun  rang  out 
clearly,  and  Prince  came  back  limping  and  howling 
most  piteously. 

When  he  saw  his  master,  he  laid  down  at  his 
feet,  as  though  he  was  dead. 

Just  then  the  carriage  drove  up,  and  as  a  gen- 
tleman alighted.  Prince  (who  was  only  playing  pos- 
sum) leaped  upon  him.  The  gentleman  patted 
him  kindly,  and  the  next  moment  was  folded  in  his 
brother's  embrace. 

Thus  was  Mr.  Penn  welcomed  to  the  ancestral 
hall,  after  an  absence  of  two  years. 

Soon  everything  was  in  confusion.  The  family 
were  all  ready  to  greet  the  noble-hearted  man. 
His  wife  sobbed  aloud  upon  his  bosom,  for  no  one 
expected  ever  to  welcome  the  master  home  again. 

Three  months  previous  they  received  the  sad 
tidings  that  he  had  died  at  sea,  and  was  buried 
deep  down  'neath  the  ocean  wave,  and  the  unhappy 
family  had  mourned  him  as  dead,  therefore  they 
rejoiced  as  though  he  had  come  from  the  jaws  of 
death. 


AMBITION.  63 

The  face  of  Will  wore  a  smile  that  had  not  been 
seen  there  for  years  ;  and  as  they  were  seated  at 
the  tea-table,  he  informed  his  beloved  brother  that 
he  was  going  to  marry  Miss  Clara  Howland,  the 
regal  beauty  and  belle  of  S . 

Mr.  Penn  was  greatly  pleased  at  this  intelligence, 
for  he  had  no  fear  of  the  return  of  the  terrible 
malady  which  had  seized  his  brother  years  before. 
He  knew  him  to  be  generous,  loving,  and  brave, 
and  any  woman  might  be  proud  to  call  him  hus- 
band. 

Mrs.  Penn  inquired  of  her  husband,  some  days 
after  his  return,  if,  in  his  travels,  he  had  seen  any- 
thing of  the  lad  that  had  brought  such  happiness 
to  their  household. 

He  shook  his  head,  and  said,  sadly  :  "I  am 
afraid  he  met  with  an  untimely  death  ;  for  no  one 
saw  him  after  the  morning  Will  came  home  to  us." 
So  the  subject  of  Ames  was  dropped,  as  Mr.  Penn 
said  that  he  would  like  to  offer  a  reward  for  him. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE    WEDDING. 

HE  stone  church  was  crowded  to  excess 
on  the  morning  of  the  marriage  of  Will 
Penn,  for  both  the  bride  and  groom  were 
known  far  and  near,  and  beloved.  They  were 
kind  to  the  poor,  who  were  ready  to  strew  their 
pathway  with  flowers. 

The  church-clock  struck  eleven,  as  the  wed- 
ding party  wended  its  way  up  the  aisle,  and 
stopped  in  front  of  the  altar,  where  the  father  of 
the  bride  gave  his  beautiful  and  only  daughter  to 
the  keeping  of  the  noble  Will  Penn. 

After  the  solemn  rite  of  matrimony  was  over, 
they  kneeled  before  the  venerable  minister,  who  had 
held  the  bride  in  his  arms  (as  an  infant  at  baptism) 
twenty- eight  years  before  ;  and  now  he  spread  his 
hands  over  her  to  bless  her  as  a  bride.  The 
blessing  had  been  pronounced,  the  happy  couple 


AMBITION.  65 

received  the  congratulations  of  their  friends,  when 
a  young  man  made  his  way  to  where  they  were 
standing,  and  Mr.  Penn  grasped  his  hand  and 
exclaimed  :  "  It  Is  Ames  !  it  Is  Ames  !  " 

Immediately  all  was  In  confusion.  Everybody 
pressed  around  Ames  ;  for  it  was  the  gentleman 
in  person. 

Will  was  one  of  the  first  to  welcome  him,  for  his 
brother  had  already  told  him  that  when  he  fell 
from  his  horse,  Ames  rescued  him,  and  Will  was 
always  ready  and  willing  to  show  his  gratitude,  he 
therefore  cordially  grasped  his  hand,  and  invited 
him  to  join  the  bridal  party  at  his  home,  which 
Ames  gladly  accepted,  for  he  had  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  gentle  Annie  ;  and  when  he  offered  her 
his  arm,  she  blushed  and  thanked  him  kindly,  so 
Ames  knew  that  he  was  not  forgotten. 

The  day  wore  off  pleasantly,  and,  long  after  the 
guests  had  departed,  Mr.  Penn,  Will,  and  Ames 
were  seated  in  the  library,  when  Mr.  Penn  ques- 
tioned Ames  about  his  affairs. 

Presently  Will  said  :  "  Ames,  I  owe  you  a  debt 
of  gratitude  ;  may  I  pay  it  now  ?  " 

Ames  said  quickly,  ''  I  was  not  aware  of  any 
such  debt,  sir." 

Mr.  Penn  said  :  "  Ames,  I  hope  you  will  take  no 
offense  ;  but  will  you  accept  the  small  sum  of  three 


66  AMBITION. 

thousand  dollars  to  enable  you  to  lay  the  foundation 
of  a  fortune?" 

Ames  stood  up  and  leaned  upon  the  back  of  a 
chair,  saying,  with  spirit :  ''  Sir,  I  acknowledge  your 
kindness,  but  will  not  accept  your  offer.  I  am  an 
American,  and  thus  far  have  earned  my  own  liv- 
ing. I  commenced  life  as  a  circus  boy,  but  now  I 
am  proud  to  say  that  I  have  amassed  quite  a  com- 
fortable sum.  Think  no  more,  gentlemen,  of  your 
indebtedness  to  me  ;  it  was  paid  while  I  lay  help- 
less under  your  roof.  I  am  now  doing  well  In  a 
Western  city,  and  nothing  brought  me  here  but  to 
get  a  glimpse  of  my  sweet  and  gentle  nurse.  Miss 
Annie,  and  by  your  permission  I  will  take  my  leave 
early  In  the  morning." 

So  saying,  they  all  arose,  and  bidding  each  other 
good  night,  separated,  when  In  the  morning  Ames 
departed  as  mysteriously  as  he  had  come. 


CHAPTER    XIII 


THE    HAPPY    FAMILY. 

'^HEN  Henry  DeBar  called  upon  Amy  Sut- 
^-  ton,  she  met  him  with  a  bright  smile,  and 
he  gallantly  handed  her  into  the  carriage, 
which,  after  he  had  seated  himself  by  her  side,  was 
driven  rapidly  to  the  miserable  abode  of  the  or- 
phans. Amy  shuddered  as  she  ascended  the  rick- 
ety chairs.  When  they  reached  the  door  Henry 
tapped  gently,  but  receiving  no  answer  opened  it 
softly. 

A  happy  sight  met  their  gaze  :  before  a  bright 
chip  fire  sat  Maggie  in  a  wooden  rocking  chair, 
with  the  little  baby  In  her  arms,  singing  and  rock- 
ing, while  the  little  one  caught  her  face  In  Its  hands 
every  time  she  went  back.  The  boy  lay  upon  the 
pallet,  a  bright  red  spot  upon  each  cheek  ; 
his  eyes  were  large  and  mournful,  but  they 
were  earnestly  fixed  upon  the  little  figures  In  the 
chair. 


68  AMBITION. 

Henry  and  Amy  stood  upon  the  threshold,  and 
gazed  intently  upon  the  litde  orphans.  When  Mag- 
gie looked  up  she  gave  a  scream  of  surprise  and 
delight,  put  down  the  baby  and  ran  towards  Hen- 
ry, Avho  folded  her  in  his  strong  arms,  then  placed 
her  hands  in  those  of  Amy,  introducing  her  as 
the  lady  who  was  going  to  take  them  to  a  new 
home.  He  then  went  to  the  boy,  who  raised 
himself  upon  his  elbow,  and  grasped  the  friendly 
hand. 

Amy  soon  made  friends  with  Maggie  and  the 
litde  prattling  baby,  while  Henry  called  upon  the 
woman  who  rented  the  room.  She  told  him  a  sad 
story  of  the  family  : 

''  About  two  years  before  a  poor  widow  with  a 
young  baby  rented  the  room,  and  paid  the  rent  for 
one  month,  when  the  litde  family  were  installed  in 
their  new  home  ;  she  took  in  sewing,  but  soon  con- 
sumption sowed  its  dreadful  seeds,  and  it  became 
apparent  that  the  poor  woman  was  not  long  for 
this  world.  The  neighbors  were  kind-hearted,  and 
they  divided  their  litde  store,  and  gave  her  all  their 
spare  time,  for  they  had  to  work  very  hard. 
Nothing  could  be  done  to  save  her  life,  and 
within  the  year  she  died,  and  was  buried  by  the 
corporation. 

-  I  let  the  children  stay,  but  the  landlord  urged 


AMBITION.  69 

me  for  the  rent ;  said  he  should  put  us  all  out  on 
the  street.  When  I  told  him  it  was  the  poor  dead 
woman  who  owed  it,  he  came  several  times,  and  at 
last  got  mad  and  made  an  officer  come  in  and  take 
everything  and  sold  it.  The  boy  took  on  dreadful, 
and  now  you  see  it  is  all  that  brute's  fault — so  it  is," 
and  the  poor  woman  wept.  ''  I've  took  care  of  them 
poor  little  children,  and  didn't  know  nothing  about 
that  child  going  begging,  until  she  told  me  last 
night  what  a  good  friend  she  had  found." 

''  Now,  my  good  woman,"  said  Henry,  who  was 
much  affected,  "  how  much  rent  do  you  want  ?  " 

''  Oh,  sir,  do  you  think  I  would  be  so  mean  as 
to  take  a  cent  from  them ;  motherless  children — 
they're  welcome  to  the  wretched  home — I  only  wish 
I  could  do  better  by  them,  I  thank  the  good  Lord 
for  sendinof  them  such  a  kind  friend." 

"  I  know  those  little  ones  will  pay  you  for  your 
trouble  ;  may  God  bless  you  and  them  too." 

He  thrust  a  note  in  the  good  woman's  hand, 
as  he  grasped  it  to  thank  her  for  the  miserable 
shelter  she  had  given  the  children,  and  without 
which  they  would  have  fared  worse. 

Before  the  astonished  woman  could  reply,  Henry 
was  gone. 

When  he  came  back  In  the  room,  he  told  Maggie 
whatever  little  thing  she  wanted  to  bundle  up  in  a 


70  AMBITION. 

counterpane,  and  he  would  send  for  it,  but  the}- 
must  all  come  with  him  in  the  carriaee. 

He  lifted  the  boy  gently,  and  dressed  him  in  his 
rags,  then  wrapped  him  in  a  quilt  and  carried  him 
to  the  carriage  ;  then  went  back  for  the  baby, 
when  he  met  Amy  with  the  little  one  in  her 
arms,  and  Maggie  with  her  arms  full,  trotting 
along  by  her  side,  laughing  and  talking.  Henry 
took  the  baby  and  placed  it  in  the  carriage  ;  soon 
the  rest  entered  and  were  driven  to  their  new 
home. 

The  delight  of  the  children  was  very  great  when 
they  saw  their  cheerful  home. 

Mrs.  Sutton  was  much  affected  by  the  story  of 
the  orphans,  and  resolved  to  rear  them  as  her  own 
children,  saying  that  God  had  given  them  in  place 
of  those  he  had  robbed  her  of,  for  she  had  none 
but  sweet  Amy. 

After  this  Henry  was  a  constant  visitor,  for,  said 
he,  laughing,  "  Have  I  not  a  famil)'  ?  I  feel  two  feet 
taller  than  I  did  last  year." 

He  performed  his  part  nobly.  The  poor  widow 
could  not  keep  the  children,  but  as  Henry  in- 
curred the  expense  of  board  and  clothing  until 
they  could  help  themseh'es,  they  were  well  taken 
care  of 

Henrv  thought  it  was  too  much  for  Amy  to  write 


AMBITION.  71 

and  take  care  of  the  children,  so  he  allowed  her  the 
same  and  did  the  writing  himself. 

Now,  as  the  children  have  found  a  mother  in 
Mrs.  Sutton,  an  aunt  in  Amy,  and  an  uncle  in 
Henry,  we  will  leave  them,  to  look  after  the  wounded 
man. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


THE    ARREST    AND    TRIAL. 


T^f^  SHTON  MOORE  lay   moaning  piteously, 


f^ 


but  was  still  unconscious.  People  came 
in  upon  tiptoe  and  stood  around  the  suf- 
ferer's bed.  Bills  were  posted  about  offering 
a  reward  for  the  would-be  assassin.  The  dirk- 
knife  was  closely  examined,  and  bore  evidence  of 
having  a  name  erased  from  the  handle  ;  but,  by 
some  chemical  process,  the  name  was  brought  out 
in  bold  relief — G.  F.  Mattson. 

When  it  became  known,  every  one  was  shocked, 
for  Mattson  was  the  bosom  friend  of  the  wounded 
man,  and  had  been  absent  from  the  city  for  three 
weeks  previous  to  the  assault  ;  but,  unfortunately, 
returned  that  very  evening,  and  was  seen  in 
company  with  Ashton.  All  that  could  be  done 
was  to  arrest  him  and  await  the  recovery  of 
Ashton.  • 


AMBITION.  73 

Great  was  the  consternation  of  Gilbert  Mattson 
when  the  officer  entered  his  room  and  arrested 
him  ;  and  great,  Indeed,  was  his  Indignation  at 
hearing  that  he  was  accused  of  so  foul  a  crime. 
Although  he  strenuously  denied  the  charge,  and 
wept  bitterly  at  the  fate  of  his  friend,  the  officer 
had  no  pity,  for  the  tempting  bait  was  constantly 
before  his  eyes.  He  led  him  off  In  triumph,  rudely 
pushed  him  to  his  cell,  like  a  criminal,  and  left  him, 
to  report  that  he  had  the  assassin  In  custody  await- 
ing the  morning  light,  so  he  could  be  brought  be- 
fore the  maoristrate. 

When  Henry  was  made  aware  of  the  facts  of  the 
arrest  of  their  mutual  friend,  his  Indignation  knew 
no  bounds.  He  found  several  members  of  the  club 
around  the  magistrate  pleading  for  the  release  of 
the  prisoner,  but  the  old  man  was  inexorable,  and 
pointed  to  the  circumstance  of  the  dirk  with  the 
name  upon  It. 

After  their  ineffectual  attempt  to  rescue  their 
friend,  the  young  men  repaired  to  the  club-house 
to  discuss  the  matter  in  question,  where,  to  their 
great  surprise,  they  found  Ames  Skiff,  who  had  re- 
turned from  his  flying  visit  to  the  little  village  of 
M — ,  where  he  witnessed  the  wedding  of  Will 
Penn. 

Ames  had  been  an   eye-witness  to  the  assault. 


74  AMBHIOX. 

He  arose  and  warmly  grasped  the  hands  of 
the  new-comers,  and  bade  them  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  he  alone  was  enabled  to  clear  their  mutual  friend. 

"  But  where  have  you  been  all  this  while, 
Ames  ?  "  inquired  Henry  DeBar.  "  Come,  give 
an  account  of  yourself,  old  boy,  or  you  may  be  ar- 
rested next." 

"  Oh,  never  fear  for  me,  I  can  easily  swear  an 
alibi.  Now  let  us  part,  for  by  my  faith,  we  will 
want  our  breath  as  long  as  we  can  keep  it ;  but,  to 
change  the  subject — where  is  Milton?  " 

"  Oh,  he  has  been  down  with  the  typhoid  fever 
for  some  time,"  said  Henry  DeBar. 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  a  messenger 
from  the  sick-room.  Ashton  became  conscious, 
and  the  first  person  that  he  called  for  was  Ames 
Skiff. 

The  doctor  sent  for  the  young  man  immedi- 
ately, thinking  that  he  could  unravel    the  mystery. 

In  due  time  Ames  arrived,  the  wounded  man  re- 
cognized him  at  once,  and  beckoned  to  him  feebly. 

Ames  approached  the  bed,  took  his  friend's  hand, 
and  leaned  over  him  tenderly,'to  catch  his  faintest 
whisper. 

''  I  saw  him,  Ames,  don't  let  him  get  away  ;  he 
took  those  papers.  Gilbert !  Gilbert !  .why  have  you 
forsaken  me !  "  cried  the  poor  man. 


AMBITION.  7  5 

Ames  tried  to  make  him  understand  that  his 
friend  was  called  suddenly  away,  and  did  not  know 
of  his  illness,  but  directly  he  arrived,  he  would 
bring  him  to  him. 

It  seemed  not  to  comfort  him,  and  the  doctor, 
seeing  his  extreme  agitation,  came  forward,  laid  his 
hand  gently  upon  Ames's  shoulder,  and  told  him  to 
step  aside  ;  then  he  gave  Ashton  a  sleeping  potion, 
and  he  soon  fell  off  into  a  doze. 

When  the  doctor  questioned  Ames  closely  he 
said  that  he  would  answer  dny  interrogation  in  the 
court  room,  but  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  answer  in- 
dividuals.     ; 

Every  attention  was  paid  to  Ashton,  and  in  three 
weeks  he  was  able  to  attend  court. 

When  Mattson  stood  up  to  answer  the  charge, 
Ashton  gave  a  terrible  shriek,  and  fell  senseless 
to  the  floor.  All  was  confusion  in  a  moment, 
while  some  gentlemen  carried  the  lifeless  form  of 
Ashton  out  of  the  room. 

Ames's  eyes  fairly  blazed  with  indignation,  as  he 
saw  the  prisoner  fall  back  pale  and  trembling.  He 
look  keenly  at  an  officer  who  stood  by,  and  gave  a 
signal,  when  he  tapped  a  young  man  upon  the 
shoulder,  and  said  in  a  loud  voice  :  "  McMurdy, 
in  the  name  of  the  law,  I  arrest  you  for  assault  with 
intent  to  kill." 


CHAPTER    XV 


CONTINUED. 


iWtxV  HEN  the  arrest  was  made,  people  were  so 
'Q%^  surprised,  they  stood  speechless  for  some 
'^''    '  ^    moments. 

McMurdy  was  a  handsome  young  man  and  an 
acquaintance  of  Ashton  Moore  ;  he  moved  in  the 
first  society,  but  was  well  known  to  have  an  un- 
governable temper. 

The  prisoner  was  placed  at  the  bar,  and  all  was 
silent  as  the  grave,  when  Ashton  was  brought  in 
and  confronted  him. 

Ames  Skiff  was  immediately  placed  upon  the 
stand  and  testified  to  the  fact,  that  as  he  was  pass- 
ing a  certain  place,  his  attention  was  arrested  by 
hearing  a  loud  and  angry  altercation  ;  being  familiar 
voices  to  him,  he  stood  under  the  awning  of  the 
store,  to  shelter  him  from  the  storm,  which  was 
then  raging. 

After  waiting  some  time  for  the  persons  to  come 
out,  the  cold  became  so  intense  that  he  was  forced 


AMBITION.  ']'] 

to  seek  shelter  and  warmth  in  the  Httle  grocery, 
and  some  time  elapsed  before  he  again  made  his 
appearance.  He  stood  at  his  post  a  little  while, 
listened  attentively,  but  not  hearing  any  sound  of 
voices,  he  buttoned  his  coat  up  closely,  and  set 
forth  to  weather  the  storm.  He  had  not  proceeded 
far,  when  the  cry  of  murder  struck  upon  his  ear, 
and  he  hastened  to  the  spot,  when,  to  his  horror, 
he  saw  the  prisoner  bending  over  the  fallen  man, 
turn  the  body  over,  and  snatch  a  bundle  of  papers, 
and  was  about  to  strike  another  blow,  when  a 
watchman  approached,  and  threw  the  uplifted  dirk 
aside.  Throwing  up  his  hands,  the  prisoner  leaped 
from  the  grasp  of  the  watchman  and  escaped. 

Upon  being  confronted  with  the  wounded  man 

and  Ames,  the    prisoner    confessed  his  guflt  and 

exonerated  Gilbert  Mattson,  saying  that  he  found 

•   the  dirk  in  an  old  desk  that  Mattson  once  had  in 

his  office. 

The  meetinof  between  Gilbert  and  Ashton  Moore 
was  affecting  in  the  extreme. 

Upon  the  recovery  of  his  papers,  Ashton  with- 
drew the  charge,  and  Clarence  McMurdy  soon 
left  the  scene  of  his  disgrace. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  poor  Mattson  recov- 
ered from  the  shock  ;  but  time  is  a  panacea  for 
all  ills. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


THE    BALL    OF    THE    AMERICAN    CLUB. 

WN  the  night  of  the  twenty-second  of  Febru- 

p";|-    ary  following  the  assault,  there  was  a  grand 

^w^   i^^ji  giyQ^  {^  honor  of  the  occasion.     The 

Apollo    Hall  was    most  tastefully   decorated    with 

flags  and  flowers.     The  wealth  and  beauty  of  the 

growing  city  was  well  represented. 

Ah,  why  this  confusion  ?  It  was  caused  by  the 
entrance  of  our  young  hero,  Ames  Skiff,  with  a 
lovely  fair-haired  girl  leaning  upon  his  arm.  His 
face  was  beaming  with  good  humor,  his  honest  blue 
eyes  twinkled  with  pleasure.  He  had  neither 
mustache  nor  whiskers,  and  therefore  one  had  a 
full  view  of  his  magnificent  teeth,  and  the  bewitch- 
ing dimple  in  either  cheek,  that  made  his  counte- 
nance look  for  all  the  world  like  the  sun  bursting 
out  from  under  a  cloud. 


AMBITIOX.  79 

As  the  handsome  couple  advanced  Into  the 
room,  they  became  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes,  and  it 
was  whispered,  "  I  wonder  who  the  fair  one  can 
be?"  and  ''Isn't  she  lovely?"  "  Why  have  we 
never  found  this  out  before?"  "Ah!  Skiff  Is  a 
sly  fellow,  anyhow.  He  generally  monopolizes  the 
beautiful,"  and  all  such  sayings  went  round  the 
room,  unheeded  by  Ames  and  his  companion. 

Now,  let  us  see  who  this  young  lady  was  that 
caused  this  commotion. 

A  few  weeks  previous  to  the  ball,  as  Ames  was 
passing  down  the  principal  street,  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  hearing  his  name  called  by  a  sweet, 
musical  voice.  Turning  quickly,  he  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  the  speaker,  and  simultaneously 
they  Issued  the    words  : 

''Brother!"  "Sister!"  He  clasped  her  to  his 
breast.  After  the  first  rapturous  feeling  between 
the  brother  and  sister  had  subsided,  Ames  drew 
her  hand  within  his  arm,  and  led  her  to  his  home, 
where  she  remained  In  private,  until  she  burst 
upon  our  sight  In  all  her  maiden  beauty.  In  the 
ball-room,  as  a  bright  meteor,  to  the  utter  surprise 
of  everybody. 

No  one,  of  course,  had  ever  seen  her  before  that 
night  ;  but  we  have,  for  this  Is  the  same  little  one 
who    had    kept    the    secret    of   Ames's    running 


8o  ,       AMBITION. 

away  with    the    circus,  until    It    nearly    cost    her 
life. 

But,  to  proceed.  Ames  was  very  proud  of  his 
sister,  for  she.  was  the  very  embodiment  of  grace 
and  refinement,  and  was  dressed  with  exquisite 
taste.  Her  robe  was  of  black  velvet,  with  low  cor- 
sage ;  her  ornaments  were  diamonds,  which  was  a 
present  from  her  proud  brother.  For,  be  it  remem- 
bered, that  he  Is  no  longer  a  peddler,  but  a  junior 
partner  In  a  large  house  In  C,  and  has  gained  this 
exalted  position  by  his  Indomitable  energy.  But, 
again  I  am  digressing. 

The  brother  and  sister  joined  the  set  that  was  now 
forming;  and.  In  fact,  led  off  the  dance,  after  which 
Ames  found  her  a  seat,  where  they  enjoyed  a  nice 
little  tete-a-tete,  when,  on  looking  over  the  mul- 
titude of  familiar  faces,  he  recognized  his  friend, 
Ashton  Moore,  and,  excusing  himself,  mingled  In 
the  crowd,  and  was  lost  to  view  for  some  moments, 
when  he  reappeared,  arm  in  arm  with  the  hand- 
some Ashton,  whom  he  introduced  to  his  sister. 

After  a  little  pleasant  conversation,  Ashton  pre- 
vailed upon  her  to  dance,  and  giving  a  hint  to 
Ames  to  select  a  partner  for  himself,  he  took  the 
queenly  Eliza  In  triumph  away. 

To  say  that  Ashton  admired  Eliza  Skiff  would 
be  saying  very  little.     He  was   completely  capti- 


AMBITION.  8 1 

vated,  and  as  he  escorted  her  to  her  carriage,  he 
pressed  her  hand  gently,  with  the  promise  (at 
Ames's  invitation)  to  call  the  next  day. 

When  the  carriage  rolled  off,  Ashton  re-entered 
the  ball-room,  but  found  there  was  a  blank  before 
him.  He  roamed  about  like  something  lost,  and 
soon  took  his  leave.  When  he  arrived  at  home, 
he  found  that  he  was  minus  that  most  essential 
article,  a  heart. 


CHAPTER     XVII. 


AT   THE    CLUB. 

ELL  boys,  'tis  now  ten  o'clock  ;  and  he  has 
not  deigned  to  honor  us  with  his  pres- 
ence as  yet,"  said  Henry  Debar,  as  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  looked  at  his  old- 
fashioned  but  magnificent  watch — an  heir-loom  of 
his  family. 

''Now,  Henry,  you  are  well  aware  that  this  par- 
agon of  yours  has  a  time  and  will  of  his  own.  He 
gave  us  his  word  that  he  would  meet  us  here  to- 
night ;  let  that  suffice.  You  know  he'll  keep  his 
word,  if  it  is  midnight ;  so  let  us  pass  our  time  in 
singing  and  praying,  if  it  will  be  agreeable." 

At  this  last  clause  of  the  speech  of  Milton 
Smith,  there  was  a  general  burst  of  merriment. 
Just  then,  the  door  was  flung  open,  with  a  quick 
hand,  and  our  hero  made  his  appearance,  followed 
by  Ashton  Moore.  It  was  soon  noticed  that  they 
were  in  evening  costume,  and,  to  the  surprise  of  all, 


AMBITION.  83 

said  they  had  just  come  from  the  house  of  a 
mutual  friend,  who  had  stolen  a  march  upon 
them  by  having  a  quiet  wedding,  and  only  those 
two  gentlemen  were  privy  to  it. 

After  the  excitement  of  their  arrival  had  sub- 
sided, they  drew  their  chairs  around  the  table, 
and  were  engrossed  in  conversation  which  I  will 
not  attempt  to  follow,  as  it  is  business.  As  they 
arrived  at  a  definite  conclusion,  it  is  none  of  my 
affair. 

They  had  been  seated  thus,  for  at  least  two 
hours,  when  Ames  looked  at  his  watch  and  gave  a 
low  whistle  of  astonishment,  and  sprang  to  his 
feet,  saying,  ''By  Jove!  I  had  no  idea  it  was  so 
late." 

In  an  instant  every  one  had  his  watch  in  his 
hand,  and  each  asked  the  other  :  "  What  of  the 
time?" 

Henry  Debar  cried  out,  '*  I'll  bet  that  not  two 
of  our  watches  will  run  the  same." 

'*  Done  !"  said  Ames,  and  the  others  bet  like- 
wise. True  enouorh,  no  two  watches  run  the  same, 
so  Henry  won  the  bet,  and  coolly  put  the  money 
in  his  pocket,  saying,  laughingly  : 

"  Well,  brethren,  let  us  sing  the  doxology  and 
close  the  prayer-meeting." 

With  this  they  all  arose,  and  Henry  gave  out : 


84  AMBITION. 

' '  There  was  three  crows  sat  on  a  tree, 
As  black  as  any  crows  could  be." 

"  Sing,  brothers,  sing,  in  long  metre,"  continued 
Henry,  and  they  sang  out  clearly ;  and,  appar- 
ently overcome  with  the  excitement,  sank  quietly 
into  their  chairs  and  remained  so  for  some 
time. 

When  the  town  clock  struck  one,  Milton  Smith 
started  up  stealthily,  approached  the  table,  and 
gave  three  loud  knocks,  exclaiming  in  tragic  tones  : 
"'Tis  past  the  witching  hour  of  night." 

They  all  sprang  to  their  feet,  rubbed  their  eyes 
as  though  they  had  been  asleep,  and  made  good 
their  escape  through  the  door  which  was  held  open 
by  Henry  Debar.  They  separated  at  the  door, 
each  to  dream  of 

"His  castles  in  the  air." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE    SURPRISE. 

ARLY  in  the  month  of  May,  when  Nature 
had  donned  her  robe  of  green,  and  Spring  had 
decked  her  head  with  flowers  (which  were 
fresh  with  the  morning  dews),  and  made  them 
ghsten  Hke  so  many  diamonds,  a  Httle  rosy-cheeked 
girl,  and  a  delicate  boy  might  be  seen  early  in  the 
morning,  gathering  flowers  by  a  little  babbling 
brook,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city  of  C. 

One  morning,  while  the  children  stood  by  the 
brook,  throwing  stones  into  its  clear  depths,  they 
were  accosted  by  a  tall,  elegantly  dressed  gentle- 
man, who  inquired  the  name  of  the  little  girl,  as  he 
handed  her  a  beautiful  flower. 

"My  name  is  Maggie  Ashton,"  said  the  little 
girl,  who  was  none  other  than  our  little  friend  whom 
Henry  DeBar  had  saved  from  starving  on  that  cold 
December  day. 


86  AMBITION. 

The  gentleman  gave  a  perceptible  start  as  the 
little  child  emphasized  "  Maggie  Ashton." 

He  repeated  mechanically,  "  Maggie  Ashton," 
*' Ashton,  my  little  girl  ?  where  does  your  mother 
live  ?  " 

''My  mother  lives  up  in  heaven,  sir.  Did  you 
know  my  mother  ?  "  and  Maggie  raised  her  large 
blue  eyes  up  to  his  face. 

The  gentleman  sat  down  on  the  bank  of  the 
stream,  and  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hands,  ap- 
parently in  deep  thought.  Maggie  crept  up  to  him 
and  laid  her  chubby  hands  upon  his  knees,  saying, 
softly:  "What  makes  you  so  still  ;  don't  you  want 
me  to  stay  near  you  ?  Must  I  take  my  brother 
away?" 

The  stranger  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  pushed 
back  her  long,  beautiful  hair,  and  throwing  her  head 
back,  scrutinized  her  features  keenly.  When  he 
seemed  satisfied,  he  kissed  her  several  times,  and 
cried  :  ''  Yes,  'tis  she,  'tis  she,  oh !  I  am  at  last 
repaid,  thank  God."  And  the  poor  man  wept  like 
a  child,  as  the  boy  and  girl  kneeled  before  him,  try- 
ing, In  their  childlike  simplicity,  to  comfort  him. 

Maggie  arose  from  her  kneeling  posture,  and 
stood  before  the  bent  figure,  saying,  like  a  little 
woman  : 

"  Well,   I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by   that 


AMBITION.  87 

— 'tis  she,  'tis  she!  but  If  you  will  just  come 
home  with  us,  my  auntie  will  tell  you  that  I  am 
Maggie  Ashton,  and  nobody  else,  and  this  is  my 
brother,  Ernest  Ashton,  and  I've  just  got  a  baby 
sister,  and  her  name  is  Lulu  Ashton ;  and 
our  mother  has  been  dead  nearly  two  whole 
years." 

"  There,  there,  my  little  one,  I  will  go  home 
with  you — come  !  "  and  the  stranger  arose,  gave 
each  of  the  children  a  hand,  which  they  took,  and 
In  this  way  they  reached  the  house. 

Kind  Mother  Sutton  had  just  started  in  search 
of  the  children,  who  had  overstaid  their  time,  but 
as  she  saw  that  they  had  company,  and  she  had  not 
been  seen  by  them,  she  went  in  another  direction 
to  make  some  necessary  purchases  before  entering 
the  house. 

As  they  neared  the  house,  Maggie  released  her- 
self from  the  hand  that  held  her,  and  darted  in  the 
open  door,  screaming  at  the  top  of  her  voice, 
"Auntie,  aiuntie,  do  come  here!  I've  caught  a  big 
fish — do  come,  quick  ;"  Amy  came  running  out 
of  the  kitchen  with  her  sleeves  rolled  up  and  her 
hands  full  of  flour,  crying  "  Where  is  it,  darling?" 
and  before  she  was  aware  she  ran  against  the 
stranger,  who  gave  a  start  of  surprise. 

Amy  raised  her  eyes  to   his  face,  and   gave    a 


88  AMBITION. 

scream,  and  would  have  fallen  had  not  the  stranger 
caught  her  in  his  strong  arms. 

When  Mrs.  Sutton  returned,  she  found  all  in 
confusion.  Amy  was  stretched  upon  the  sofa,  the 
children  crying  and  calling  upon  auntie,  dear  auntie, 
to  awake. 

And  the  stranger  kneeling  by  the  side  of  Amy, 
bathing  her  temples  with  vinegar,  which  the  ser- 
vant had  brought  him. 

When  the  children  saw  her  they  ran  to  her,  cry- 
ing, "  O,  Mamma  Sutton,  he's  killed  auntie,  he's 
killed  auntie,"  and  they  both  screamed  aloud.  Mrs. 
Sutton  led  them  from  the  room  and  closed  the 
door  between  them,  but  she  could  hear  them  still 
moan  and  cry,  "  My  auntie,  my  dear  auntie." 

When  Mrs.  Sutton  returned  the  stranger  arose 
and  uttered  one  word,  ''  Millie".  She  rushed  into 
his  arms  and  cried  out,  *'  My  long  lost  brother." 
Thus,  after  years  of  separation,  those  two  loving 
hearts  were  re-united.  Poor  Amy,  in  the  mean- 
time, recovered  to  be  the  witness  to  this  scene.  A 
groan  from  the  sofa  arrested  their  attention,  and 
Frank  Hardy  left  his  new-found  sister  to  attend  to 
his  lovely  niece.  He  lifted  her  gently  and  placed 
her  upon  her  feet,  when  she  threw  her  arms  around 
his  neck  and  wept  upon  his  breast. 

In  the  meantime  the  children  were  admitted,  and 


AMBITION.  89 

were  overjoyed  at  having  a  new  uncle.  Maggie 
criedj  wildly  :  ''  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  did  not  kill  my 
auntie." 

Soon  Frank  Hardy  was  left  to  amuse  the  chil- 
dren while  the  mother  and  daughter  made  ready 
the  breakfast,  which  had  been  forgotten  during  the 
excitement  of  the  unexpected  meeting,  but  all 
enjoyed  so  much  at  the  proper  time. 

"  Now,"  said  Frank,  after  he  had  heard  the  tale 
of  the  suffering  children,  "they  will  suffer  no  more 
while  I  have  a  dollar.  She  lives  over  again  in 
Maggie."  But  Maggie  could  not  comprehend  what 
he  meant. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


THE    ENGAGEMENT. 

HILE  the  happy  family  yet  lingered  around 
the  tea-table  that  evening,  there  came  a 
well-known  ring  at  the  door,  when  Mag- 
gie rushed  from  the  table  saying,  ''  There's  Uncle 
Henry,"  and  opened  the  door  to  admit  Henry  De- 
Bar,  who,  of  course,  had  been  a  constant  visitor 
since  the  introduction  of  the  children.  Amy  arose 
and  blushingly  welcomed  him,  then  turned  to  her 
Uncle  Frank  and  introduced  him  as  the  children's 
protector,  when  the  little  magpie  of  the  family 
spoke  up  quickly  and  said  :  ''  Uncle  Frank,  Uncle 
Henry  is  auntie's  beau,  ain't  that  funny  ?  " 

At  the  child's  remark  poor  Amy  crimsoned  ; 
but  Henry  laughed  at  the  shrewdness  of  his  pro- 
tege, while  he  shook  hands  with  Frank,  and  as- 
sured him  that  he  was  much  pleased  to  make  his 
acquaintance. 


AMBITION.  91 

In  the  meantime  the  officious  little  Maggie  had 
turned  up  an  extra  plate,  which  was  always  placed 
for  Henry,  and  taking  his  hand  pulled  him  to  his 
seat.  He  never  could  find  it  in  his  heart  to  rebuke 
the  little  motherless  thing.  His  whole  soul  seemed 
to  be  wrapped  up  in  her.  He  often  vowed  that, 
come  what  would,  he  never  would  part  from  her. 
His  love  was  reciprocated,  for  her  quick  ear  could 
discern  his  step  among  a  hundred  afar  off,  and 
her  great  eyes  would  beam  with  delight  at  his  com- 
ing. When  he  was  not  there  at  a  certain  time  she 
would  neither  eat  nor  sit  down,  but  would  pace  the 
floor,  and,  every  now  and  then,  watch  from  the 
door  until  she  saw  him  coming  ;  then  the  change 
that  would  come  over  the  lovine  little  grateful 
thing  was  truly  marvelous.  Thus  she  showed  her 
love  for  her  kind  protector  ;  the  boy  loved  him 
none  the  less,  but  was  less  demonstrative. 

As  Maggie  seated  Henry,  she  took  her  place 
next  to  him,  much  to  the  amusement  of  Mr.  Frank 
Hardy,  who  said  that  he  wished  that  it  was  he 
instead  of  Henry,  to  the  delight  of  that  young 
bachelor,  who  gave  a  sly  look  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  where  sat  the  presiding  divinity,  in  the  act 
of  pouring  out  his  tea. 

Well,  Henry  partook  of  a  hearty  meal,  after 
which  he  took  Maggie  upon  his  knee,  and  let  her 


92  AMBITION. 

pull  his  mustache  and  sIde-whIskers  to  her  heart's 
content.  She  would  put  one  little  finger  upon  each 
of  his  eyes,  and  then  call  out  :  "  Now,  uncle,  you 
can't  see  me." 

When  the  tea-things  were  all  cleared  away,  they 
were  joined  by  Mrs.  Sutton  and  Amy  ;  but,  much 
to  the  latter's  surprise,  Henry  insisted  upon  having 
a  private  conversation  with  her,  that  there  was  a 
matter  of  vital  importance  to  settle.  Amy  arose 
and  led  the  way  into  the  neat  little  parlor,  where 
she  wheeled  an  arm-chair  in  front  of  the  window  ; 
but,  to  use  a  vulgar  but  appropriate  phrase,  Henry 
couldn't  see  it,  for  he  gently  put  his  arm  around 
the  fragile  form,  and  clasped  her  to  his  bosom,  much 
to  the  astonishment  of  poor,  blushing  Amy,  who 
could  not  articulate  one  word. 

"  Be  not  frightened,  by  birdie,  my  intentions  are 
honorable,  I'll  assure  you  ;  come,  sit  you  down,  my 
lady  fair."  And  he  gallantly  led  her  to  the  sofa, 
and  seated  himself  beside  her,  saying  :  "  Now  lis- 
ten, Amy,  I  am  about  a  tale  to  unfold  that  may, 
but  it  should  not  surprise  you  in  the  least.  It  is 
this,  not  a  very  new  story,  to  be  sure,  to  the  world, 
but  for  me  to  say  that  I  love  you  (there,  it's  out), 
it  is  ;  now,  what  have  you  to  say  in  return,  my 
Amy  ?  "  and  the  impudent  fellow  actually  took  her 
hand,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 


AMBITION.  93 

Nothing  was  said  for  some  time,  when  Henry 
whispered  :  "  Come,  my  dading,  what  do  you  say 
to  my  uncouth  wooing  ;  shall  I,  or  shall  I  not  wear 
the  jewel  that  I  so  highly  prize  ?  " 

Amy  hid  her  blushing  face  in  his  bosom,  while 
he  murmured  :  ''  Bless  you,  sweet  one,  I  am  an- 
swered." He  raised  her  head  gently,  and  imprint- 
ed his  first  kiss  uport  her  pure  brow,  then  took  the 
little  white  hand  again,  and  slipped  a  brilliant  soli- 
taire upon  the  engagement  finger. 

Amy  ventured  to  say  :  "  Oh,  Henry,  you  have 
forgotten  that  I  have  a  mother  and  uncle  to  con- 
sult, and — and — that  I  am  only  a  poor  girl.  What 
will  people  say  ?  " 

"  Why,  Amy,  dear,  am  1  not  able  to  fight  against 
public  opinion,  so  long  as  I  have  you  as  a  reserve  ? 
And,  as  for  your  mother,  she  loves  me  as  a  son 
already  ;  and,  darling,  then  this  orphan  boy  will 
find  a  mother  too,"  and  he  gave  her  a  long,  pas- 
sionate kiss,  then  carried  her  before  her  mother 
and  uncle,  who  were  playing  games  with  the  chil- 
dren. Mrs.  Sutton  was  surprised,  but  gave  her 
full  consent ;  and  Frank  said,  If  he  were  to  judge 
from  outward  appearances,  it  would  certainly  be  in 
his  favor,  and  the  two  shook  hands  cordially. 

When  everything  was  settled,  Henry  kissed 
the  baby,  whom  Mrs.  Sutton  held  In  her  lap,  and 


94  AMBITION. 

Maggie  hung  around  his  neck,  kissing  his  face  and 
eyes,  good-bye,  as  she  said. 

As  the  clock  struck  ten,  he  took  his  leave,  and 
as  Amy  gave  him  her  hand  at  the  door,  he  stole 
a  kiss,  and  before  she  could  remonstrate,  he  v/as 
gone. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    MYSTERIOUS    GUEST. 

N    a  luxuriously  fitted  up  chamber,  upon  a 

'-'^^  crimson  velvet  couch,  reclines  a  young 
girl  of  some  sixteen  summers.  Her  face  is 
oval,  and  marvelously  fair,  while  it  is  framed  with 
a  profusion  of  glossy  black  hair,  which  nearly 
reaches  her  feet,  in  rich  waves.  Her  coral  lips  are 
slightly  parted,  just  enough  to  display  her  pearly 
teeth.  Her  eyes  seem  to  be  dark  wells  of  mys- 
tery ;  they  are  fringed  with  long,  heavy  lashes, 
which  partially  veiled  their  mysterious  depths. 

Thus,  silently,  she  remained  for  some  time, 
when  some  new  thought  seemed  to  possess  her, 
and  she  arose  hastily,  looked  at  her  little  jewelled 
watch,  tapped  her  tiny  foot  Impatiently  upon  the 
rich  velvet  carpet,  murmuring  : 

''Why,  oh,  why,  does  he  tarry  so  long!  Jt  is 
now  past  his  usual  hour,  and  yet  he  comes  not." 

Hark  !  that  is  most  assuredly  his  step,  and  she 


9^  AMBITION. 

Struck  a  listening  attitude.  As  the  step  approached 
the  door,  she  quickly  resumed  her  listless  position 
upon  the  couch,  and  in  the  next  instant  the  door 
was  softly  opened,  and  Ames  Skiff  stood  with  the 
knob  in  his  hand,  gazing  at  the  beautiful  sleeper 
(as  he  thought)  in  admiration. 

As  she  did  not  stir  at  this  interruption,  he 
cautiously  advanced  towards  the  couch,  and  bend- 
ing gently  over  the  fair  vision,  he  imprinted  a  kiss 
upon  her  marble  brow. 

At  the  touch  of  those  lips,  she  started  to  her 
feet  in  seeming  indignation  at  the  intruder,  but 
when  she  saw  Ames  standing  penitently  before 
her,  the  cloud  of  indignation  passed  away,  and  she 
smilingly  extended  her  white  jewelled  hand  for 
him  to  kiss,  which  he  did  in  gallant  style  (as  he  did 
everything).  Now,  I  must  say  that  Rosa  Lynn 
(for  it  was  the  little  circus-rider)  was  a  most  con- 
summate actress,  as  we  shall  see. 

When  Ames  seated  himself  beside  this  queen 
of  beauty  he  thought  of  her  only  as  a  sister  ;  and, 
taking  her  little  hand  pressed  it  playfully  ;  then, 
lifting  the  mass  of  black  hair  put  it  around  his 
shoulders,  saying  that  he  knew  that  now  he  had  a 
strpng  halter  around  his  neck. 

''  Would  it  break  the  proud  neck  to  have  it 
for  life  ?  "  said  she,  archly. 


AMBITION.  97 

'*  Well,  yes  ;  I  fear  It  would,  little  Rosa.  I 
never  Intend  to  wear  a  halter  around  my  stubborn 
neck,"  and  Ames  laughed  heartily  as  he  stole 
another  kiss  from  the  ruby  lips.  But,  to  his  utter 
surprise,  she  pushed  him  rudely  from  her  and 
stood  with  flashing  eyes  and  heaving  bosom  before 
him,  saying,  angrily  : 

"Beware  how  you  trifle  with  me,  Ames  Skiff! 
When  you  were  a  poor  circus-rlder  you  gave  me 
your  protection  ;  but  now  that  you  are  a  junior 
partner,  you  insult  me !  " 

Ames  leaped  to  his  feet  In  a  moment  and  con- 
fronted her,  his  blue  eyes  fairly  emitting  flames  of 
fire. 

''  Why,  Rosa  Lynn !  what  mean  you  ?  Did 
you  ever  know  me  to  offer  an  Insult  to  a  lady  ? 
Speak  truly !  or,  by  heaven,  I  will  leave  you  this 
moment,  never  to  set  eyes  upon  your  fatal  beauty 
again." 

Rosa  quailed  before  the  angry  flashes  of  fire 
from  the  blue  eyes  of  the  hitherto  passive  being  at 
her  side.  When  she  found  that  he  had  Indeed 
thrown  off  the  halter  from  his  neck,  she  thought  it 
best  to  conciliate  him  ;  therefore,  she  placed  her 
hand  upon  his  arm,  looked  up  In  his  face,  and 
said  : 

"Ames,  let  us  be  friends  ;  I  was  mad — mad  with 


98  AMBITION. 

jealousy  when  I  spoke  to  you  of  Insult.  Oh,  you 
can  never  know  the  terrible  pang  at  my  heart, 
every  time  I  saw  you  walking  or  riding,  when  this 
fair  woman  was  by  your  side.  And  still,  Ames-, 
you  told  me  that  you  would  never  be  fettered  or 
wear  the  halter  of  matrimony." 

"Ah,  Is  that  the  cause  of  this  outburst?"  said 
Ames,  as  he  removed  the  little  hand.  "  Then,  let 
me  ease  your  mind,  Rosa.  That  fair  creature  is 
my  Idolized  sister." 

Rosa  gave  a  start,  and  screamed  out : 

"Your  sister!  Ames,  dear  Ames,  forgive,  for- 
give, me !  "  and  she  fell  in  a  dead  faint  at  his  feet. 

Poor  Ames  was  a  little  frightened  at  the  turn 
affairs  had  taken,  but  had  presence  of  mind  enough 
to  lift  the  Inanimate  form,  and  place  It  upon  the 
couch,  when  he  bathed  her  brow  in  water,  and 
rubbed  the  little  cold  hands. 

As  he  was  kneeling  by  her  side,  she  opened  her 
eyes,  and  fixed  them  upon  him  Intently. 

"What  Is  It,  Rosa?"  asked  Ames.  "Can  you 
sit  up  now  ?  "  and  he  placed  his  hand  under  her 
head,  and  raised  her  up  gently,  saying : 

"  Now,  darling  little  one.  It  is  growing  late,  and  I 
must  leave  you,  but  do  not  want  to  leave  you  In 
this  condlt'.o.^.." 

"  Oh  !  you  need  not  fear  now.  I  have  completely 


AMBITION.  99 

recovered.  But,  Ames,  let  me  hear  fromx  your  lips 
that  you  are  not  angry  with  me  ;  that  you  love  me 
still,"  and  she  hid  her  face  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
wept. 

Ames  tried  to  soothe  the  trembling  girl,  by  say- 
ing :  "  Rosa !  I  have  often  told  you  that  I  loved 
you  as  well  as  I  do  my  own  sister.  Is  not  that  suffi- 
cient ?  It  is  the  only  love  that  I  can  give.  Will 
you  not  rest  upon  that  love  ?  Now,  cheer  up,  little 
one.  You  shall  never  want  while  Ames  has  a  dol- 
lar in  this  world.  Now,  bid  me  good-night,  and 
promise  me  that  you  will  be  a  good  girl ;  "  and  he 
led  her  towards  the  door,  kissed  her,  and  was  gone. 


CHAPTER     XXI. 

THE    BETROTHAL. 


HILE  Ames  was  passing  a  stormy  evening 
with  Rosa,  quite  a  different  scene  was 
being  enacted  beneath  his  own  roof.  The 
spacious  drawing-room  was  well  filled  with  the 
young  people  of  his  set.  He  had  been  one  among 
the  gayest  during  the  first  part  of  the  reception  ; 
but,  remembering  his  promise  to  Rosa,  at  a  certain 
time,  made  good  his  escape. 

As  he  always  did  things  up  in  fine  style,  so  it 
was  on  this  occasion.  The  trimmings  were  of  gold 
and  crimson.  The  handsome  mirrors  reflected  the 
gorgeous  dresses  of  the  ladies,  as  they  whirled  past 
in  the  dance.  In  the  centre  hung  a  magnificent 
chandelier,  which  made  the  scene  dazzling  and 
grand  in  the  extreme.  Delightful  music  filled  the 
room. 

This  party  was  given  by  Ames  to  his  sister  on 
the  eve  of  her  departure  for  home  ;  and  many  of 


AMBITION.  lOI 

the  young  people  who  had  formed  her  acquaint- 
ance brought  Httle  gifts  of  affection,  which  the  fair 
recipient  acknowledged  in  fitting  terms. 

Eliza  looked  regally  beautiful  that  night.  She 
wore  a  dress  of  dark  blue  silk,  trimmed  with  point 
lace.  Her  jewels  were  pearls.  Her  golden  hair 
was  braided  and  bound  around  her  head  in  Egyptian 
style. 

Very  proud  was  Ashton  Moore,  as  the  beauty 
leaned  upon  his  arm,  while  they  promenaded  the 
room,  the  observed  of  all  observers. 

Ashton  drew  her  attention  to  a  divan  near  the 
window,  which  was  partially  hidden  by  the  drapery, 
and  whispered  :  "  Come,  dearest,  I  have  a  secret 
to  impart.     Will  you  not  lend  a  listening  ear?  " 

"  Will  it  not  do  as  well,  dear  Ashton,  to  tell  it 
under  the  gas-light?  "  said  she  roguishly,  tapping 
her  fingers  with  her  delicate  pearl  fan,  a  present, 
by  the  way,  from  the  lordly  Ashton  Moore. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  seat  in  ques- 
tion, when  Ashton  gallantly  seatod  his  lady  fair, 
and,  toying  with  her  fan,  she  bent  her  imperious 
head  and  listened  to  his  oft-repeated  declaration 
of  love. 

When  she  raised  her  head,  he  saw  that  her  face 
was  suffused  with  blushes,  as  she  tremblingly  said : 
"  Mr.  Moore,  I  hardly  think  that  you  can  mean  all 


I02  AMBITION. 

you  say,  for  the  simple  reason   that  there   are  so 
many  fair  ones  more  worthy  of  your  love  than  I." 

''Nay,  Eliza!  I  have  weighed  you  in  the  bal- 
ance and  found  you  '  not  wanting,'  "  said  Ashton, 
bending  his  proud  head  to  catch  her  answer.  "  Say 
that  you  love  me,  and  that  you  will  take  me  for 
better  or  worse,  and  I'll  rest  content." 

The  blushing  girl  replied,  in  the  faintest  whisper, 
*'  I  do  love  you.'' 

Those  few  words  were  enough  for  Ashton.  He 
took  the  little  unresisting  hand  in  his,  and  the 
almost  inaudible  words,  "  God  bless  you,"  were 
heard  only  by  herself 

As  she  thought  it  a  duty  to  her  guests  that  she 
should  not  absent  herself  so  long,  she  prevailed 
upon  her  lover  to  mingle  again  in  the  crowd. 

*'Just  draw  off  your  left  glove,  Eliza,  dear. 
I  want  to  tell  my  fortune." 

Eliza  drew  off  the  dainty  glove,  when  he  slipped 
a  brilliant  cluster  diamond  ring  upon  it,  saying, 
proudly  :  ''  Thus  I  chain  you  to  me  for  life." 

"Oh,  Ashton!"  she  exclaimed,  ''how  is  this? 
I  only  said  that  I  would  always  love  you,  and,  per- 
haps, some  day  we  might  be  united.  Do  you  forget 
that  I  leave  this  scene  of  so  many  happy  moments 
to-morrow,  at  early  dawn  ?  Why  have  you  delayed 
this  momentous  question  until  the  last  moment  ?  " 


AMBITION.  103 

''  Ah,  Eliza,  you  forget,  or  perhaps  do  not  know, 
that  I  leave  America  in  three  days,  not  to  return 
for  one  year.  So  I  put  off  all  important  questions 
intentionally.  For,  had  you  refused  me,  I  would 
never  have  cared  to  set  foot  upon  my  native  shore  ; 
but,  as  it  is,  I  will  count  the  days  that  will  bring  me 
home  to  claim  my  bride.  So,  as  that  question 
is  settled,  we  will  rejoin  our  friends,  for  I  am 
supremely  happy.  Ah,  here  is  Ames  !  "  And  as 
they  arose,  they  were  confronted  by  that  young 
gentleman,  who  had  just  returned  from  his  stolen 
visit  to  Rosa. 

As  Eliza  raised  her  hand,  Ames  recognized  the 
ring  that  Ashton  had  shown  him  soon  after  the 
assault  made  upon  him.  He  knew  it  was  an  old  heir- 
loom ;  had  been  a  betrothal  ring  in  the  family  for 
generations.  Ames  looked  from  one  to  the  other 
for  an  explanation,  but  neither  gave  it.  Eliza 
drew  on  her  glove,  took  the  arm  of  her  handsome, 
dark-eyed  lover,  and  left  the  wondering  Ames  to 
seek  a  partner  for  the  dance  that  was  just  forming. 


CHAPTER      XXII. 


THE    STEAMBOAT    DISASTER. 


HE  moon  shone  brightly  upon  the  waters 
r^M  of  the  grand  old  Mississippi,  as  the 
^  ^  steamer  Granville  walked  upon  it,  ''  like 
a  thing  of  life."  The  band  playing  a  national  air, 
as  the  old  star-spangled  banner  floated  proudly 
to  the  breeze,  who,  to  gaze  upon  that  lovely  scene, 
would  think  that  death  was  near  to  many  ?  Such 
is  life,  in  the  midst  of  which  we  are  truly  in  death. 
The  Granville  had  not  been  out  more  than 
three  hours  before  she  was  overtaken  by  a  hand- 
some steamer,  called  the  Warning,  a  very  singu- 
lar and  most  inappropriate  name,  for  she  carried 
destruction  and  death  with  her  without  the  least 
warning. 

When  the  Warning  came  steaming  up  the 
river,  everybody  rushed  upon  deck,  for  well  they 
knew  she  was  bound  for  a  race  with  some 
vessel. 


AMBITION.  I05 

She  came  up  handsomely,  and  the  two  steamers 
were  alongside  of  each  other.  When  the  cap- 
tain of  the  Warning  shouted  through  his  trum- 
pet to  the  captain  of  the  Granville  to  make  ready 
for  a  race,  the  passengers  remonstrated,  but  the  cap- 
tain put  on  steam,  and  in  a  twinkling  the  two 
steamers  were  skimming  over  the  waters  as  if  they 
were  being  chased  by  some  evil  spirit. 

The  betting  ran  high  by  the  excited  male  pas- 
sengers, while  the  women  and  children  were  called 
to  go  into  the  cabin.  Some  of  the  most  timid  were 
glad  to  take  shelter  these  but  some  again  were 
greatly  excited,  and  remained  upon  deck.  Among 
those  who  remained  was  our  hero  Ames  Skiff, 
and  near  him  stood  the  beautiful  and  courageous 
Rosa  Lynn. 

Ames  urged  upon  Rosa  to  withdraw,  but  she 
said  she  was  fascinated  by  danger  and  she  would  re- 
main if  he  did  so.  They  had  not  been  more  than 
twenty  minutes  eagerly  watching  the  race,  when  a 
terrible  crash  was  heard,  and  the  Granville  keeled 
over  on  her  side.     The  confusion  was  fearful. 

Women  screaming  and  praying,  and  strong  men 
cursing  and  praying  alternately  ;  the  deck  hands 
lowering  the  boats,  and  the  captain  shouting  through 
his  trumpet.  All  this  had  a  dreadful  effect  upon  a 
young  invalid  lady  who   was  seated  upon  a  stool 

G 


I06  AMBITION. 

by  the  side  of  an  aged  gendeman,  widi  her  face 
covered  with  her  hands  ;  she  was  trembhng  Hke  an 
aspen. 

Ames  had  presence  of  mind  enough  to  throw  his 
arm  around  Rosa,  who  clung  to  him,  crying  wildly: 
''  Save,  oh!  save  me,  Ames!  I  do  not  want  to  die. 
I  cannot,  will  not  die." 

Ames  hurriedly  caught  up  the  fragile  girl  with 
one  hand,  and  Rosa  with  the  other,  when  the  poor 
girl  frantically  cried  out  :  ''  Oh,  sir  ;  let  me  go  and 
save  my  father  ! "  But  the  old  gentleman  seemed  to 
regain  his  youth,  and  said  :  ''  Nettie!  Nettie!  come, 
I'll  save  you  child!  "  and  he  was  about  to  snatch 
his  daughter  from  the  strong  arm  of  the  young  hero, 
when  she  clung  to  him  with  her  little  remaining 
strength,  and  Ames,  seeing  the  danger  of  waiting 
another  moment,  rushed  past  the  old  gentleman, 
telling  him  to  follow  or  he  would  be  lost. 

They  just  reached  the  lower  deck  in  time  to 
jump  into  the  last  boat,  which  was  already  filled. 
They  had  hardly  left  the  steamer  when  she  sank ; 
the  captain  and  deck  hands  jumped  into  the  water, 
and  were  rescued  by  a  passing  boat.  And  the 
Granville  found  a  resting-place  'neath  the  waves  of 
the  Mississippi.  In  the  meantime  Ames  reached 
the  shore  with  his  charges,  and  found  comfortable 
quarters  for  them. 


CHAPTER      XXIII 


AT    THE    CLUB. 


HEN  the  news  of  the  disaster  and  the  loss 
of  the  Graiiville  rtdic\\Q.d  the  city  ofC,  the 
consternation  was  very  great,  for  a  great 
many  persons  had  relatives  or  friends  on  board. 

At  the  club-room  of  the  "■  American,"  one  by  one 
of  its  members  took  his  seat  in-  silence.  In  a  short 
time  the  door  was  thrown  open  by  Henry  DeBar, 
who  entered  with  a  paper  in  his  hand.  All  arose 
to  their  feet  in  a  moment  to  hear  the  news  whether 
good  or  bad. 

*'  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  ''  I  fear  there  is  no  hope, 
"  for — listen  "-;-and  he  read  from  an  evening  sheet : 
"■  The  race  between  the  Granville  and  Warning 
proved  a  most  calamitous  affair  ;  owing  to  the  mis- 
management of  the  Granville,  and  the  large  num- 
ber of  passengers  she  bore',  it  was  found  that  all 
must  go  down  with  her.     Several  attempts  to  save 


io8 


AMBITION. 


the  women  and  children  were  made,  but  proved 
ineffectual.  The  heroism  of  young  Ames  Skiff  of 
C.  was  worthy  of  note.  In  trying  to  save  two 
ladies  he  lost  his  own  life.  The  last  seen  of  him 
was,  he  was  making  a  superhuman  effort  to  reach 
the  shore,  and  would  have  done  so,  had  not  the 
poor  frightened  women  held  on  to  him  so  tena- 
ciously. He  was  seen  to  clasp  them  tightly  to  his 
noble  breast  and  sink  to  rise  no  more." 

As  Henry  finished  reading  he  leaned  his  head 
upon  the  table  and  groaned  aloud  ;  every  man 
there  either  did  the  same,  or  hid  his  face  in 
his  hands  to  shut  out  the  terrible  vision.  Milton 
Smith  cried  out  :  *'  Oh,  Ames !  Ames  !  why  did 
you  leave  us  ?  He,  the  noble,  lion-hearted  Ames, 
has  sacrificed  his  young  life.  He  was  always 
foremost  in  danger ;  he  knew  not  the  meaning 
of  the  word  fear ;  he  was  generous  to  a  fault ; 
although  he  had  the  strength  of  a  lion,  his  heart  was 
gentle  as  a  woman's  ;  he  did  not  sympathize  with  . 
the  afflicted  with  empty  words,  but  always  with  his 
purse  open.  The  poor  he  made  glad  always  by  his 
generous  deeds,  and  the  wealthy  were  ever  ready 
to  welcome  him  for  his  bright  genial  disposition. 
I  pray  heaven  we  will  not  have  to  mourn  our  noble 
friend,  gentlemen  ;  that  this  report  may  be,  like 
many  others,  without  the  least  foundation." 


AMBITION.  109 

When  Milton  had  ceased  speaking  the  young 
men  answered  with  reverence,  ''  May  God  grant  it." 

It.  was  some  hours  before  the  members  of  the 
American  Club  regained  their  composure,  for  from 
the  first  of  Ames's  coming  among  them  he  was  a 
favorite. 

Although  a  perfect  stranger  two  years  before,  he 
had  endeared  himself  to  many  by  his  noble  daring 
and  his  genial  companionship. 

As  we  have  seen  already,  this  rumor  was  false, 
for,  when  Ames  had  gained  the  shore  with  several 
others,  the  noble  vessel  had  sunk  beneath  the 
treacherous  waves,  and  the  Warnings  which  was 
damaged  severely,  turned  off  in  her  crippled  state, 
with  her  deck  crowded  with  excited  men,  gazing 
at  the  wreck  their  madness  had  made. 

For  some  time  after  the  landing  the  greatest 
consternation  prevailed  among  the  ladies,  for  not 
a  steamer  hove  in  sight,  and  darkness  was  creep- 
ing on. 

The  old  gentleman,  too,  became  very  trouble- 
some ;  for  he  could  not  believe  that  his  daughter 
was  unhurt.  It  seemed  too  great  a  miracle  for  the 
frail  girl  to  stand  the  shock. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 


HOW    THE    SUFFERERS     WERE    RESCUED. 

HEN  night  spread  her  dark  mantle  o'er 
the  earth,  and  spangled  it  with  glittering 
Stars,  which  seemed  to  wink  and  blink  in 
their  watch  over  the  poor  unfortunates,  Ames,  with 
two  others,  went  in  search  of  something  to  make  a 
fire.  Soon  they  returned  with  their  arms  full  of 
brush,  and  lighted  a  fire,  which  they  kept  up  all 
night.  Towards  morning,  the  Ti^enton,  one  of  the 
grand  floating  palaces  of  the  Mississippi,  hove  in 
sight,  and  the  sentinel  on  duty  gave  a  signal,  which 
was  returned  promptly. 

In  a  moment  all  was  confusion.  The  men  had 
to  go  some  distance  for  the  ladies,  who  were 
sheltered  in  an  old  barn,  but  had  already  heard  the 
welcome  shout  as  the  watchers  beheld  the  vessel 
rounding  in,  and  many  a  heartfelt  ''  thank  God  !  " 
issued  from  those  trembling  lips. 


AMBITION.  I  I  I 

Soon  the  steamer  landed  ;  the  men,  who  were 
ever  ready  to  help  the  unfortunate,  threw  out  the 
plank  with  alacrity,  and  those  on  shore  met  them 
half  way  with  their  precious  freight. 

When  they  were  about  to  draw  in  the  plank,  the 
captain,  who  was  standing*  near,  turned  quickly, 
and  found  himself  face  to  face  with  our  hero. 
He  started  perceptibly,  and  cried  out  :'  ''  Do  my 
eyes  deceive  me,  or  is  this  Ames  Skiff?  "  and  the 
jolly  tar  grasped  the  hand  that  Ames  extended  to 
him,  saying  :  "  Ye  gods  !  my  boy,  where  did  you 
drop  from  ?  how  came  you  in  this  lonely  region  ? 
for,  of  all  places  along  the  banks  of  this  glorious 
river,  this  is  the  most  forlorn.  I  had  no  idea,  my 
boy,  when  I  ran  into  port,  of  seeing  anything  but 
a  party  of  vagabond  negroes,  who  often  hail  us  on 
our  passage  down,  or  lure  us  on  with  their  beacon 
fires.  Well,  Ames,  my  boy,  I  am  confoundedly  glad 
to  see  you  ;  it  does  my  eyes  good,  I  tell  you,  boy. 
But,  I  declare,  how  handsome  you  have  grown! 
Why,  boy,  I  can  scarcely  believe  you  to  b^  the 
little  towheaded  rascal  I  used  to  know,"  and  the 
good- hearted  captain  rattled  on  for  some  time  in 
the  same  strain. 

Ames  told  him  exactly  how  it  happened,  and 
jolly  captain  made  an  awful  long  face  when 
he    heard  of  the   loss  of    the    stately    Grafiville, 


112  AMBITION. 

and  exclaimed  :  ''  Well,  if  there  is  not  something 
done  to  stop  this  reckless  racing,  we  will  all  find 
ourselves  some  of  these  fine  days  taking  a  dive  be- 
low, to  listen  to 

'  What  are  the  wild  waves  saying. ' 

Now,  as  we  have  so  strangely  met,  after  a  separa- 
tion of  so  many  years,  we  may,  in  all  probability, 
meet  often,  so  I  will  leave  you  at  Vicksburg  as  you 
desire,  and  will  keep  a  keen  lookout  for  you,  for  I 
have  strong  ideas  that  you  may  turn  up,  one  of 
these  fine  days,  in  the  White  House  at  Washing- 
ton. Indeed,  I  hope  so,  boy  ;  for  if  honesty  and 
energy  are  to  have  its  reward,  I  know  before  these 
old  eyes  are  closed,  I  will  have  the  pleasure  of 
grasping  the  hand  of  Ames  Skiff,  President  of 
the  United  States." 

Ames  smiled  and  bowed  his  head.  Just  then 
preparations  were  being  made  to  land,  and  he 
merely  had  time  to  thank  the  captain  and  look  after 
his  friends,  when  the  plank  was  thrown  out  and 
was  soon  crowded  with  visitors  for  Vicksburg. 


CHAPTER    XXV 


THE    AVOWAL    AND    SEPARATION. 


URELY  Ames,  you  will  not  desert  me  for 
that  fragile  girl  ?  I,  who  have  known  and 
loved  you  ever  since  you  were  a  boy.  She 
loves  you  for  your  position  and  fine  appearance 
only,  and  because  you  saved  her  life."  And  as  she 
spoke  those  words,  the  fair  speaker  clasped  her 
tiny  hands  upon  the  folded  arms  of  Ames,  and 
looked  wistfully  up  into  his  thoughtful  face,  await- 
inof  his  answer. 

Some  few  moments  elapsed  before  he  uttered  one 
word.  Then  he  said  kindly,  but  firmly  :  ''  Rosa, 
what  right  have  you  to  dictate  to  me  what  or  who 
I  shall  love !  Is  it  not  enough  for  you  to  know  that 
I  love  you  only  as  a  sister  ?  I  have  often  told  you 
that  nothing  but  death  shall  ever  sever  that 
bond." 

"  But,  Ames,  I  am  not  content  with  such  love. 


114  AMBITION. 

I  want  you  to  love  me  with  that  burning  intensity 
of  feeHng  with  which  I  love  you." 

"  Nay,  Rosa,  do  not  proceed,  I  beg  of  you,"  said 
Ames,  sternly,  as  he  unfolded  his  arms,  and  shook 
off  her  hands.  "  I  will  not  encourage  •}'our  think- 
ing of  such  a  thing,  it  will  only  wound  your  self- 
love,  and  place  me  in  an  embarrassing  position.  I 
have  never  made  rash  promises.  I  have  always 
told  you  that  you  shall  have  my  entire  protection 
and  support  so  long  as  you  need  it ;  will  not  that 
suffice,  tell  me,  little  one  ?  "  and  Ames  softened 
his  mood,  and  leaned  gently  over  the  drooping 
form,  parted  the  raven  curls  from  her  pure  white 
brow,  and  imprinted  a  kiss  of  friendship  upon  it. 

Poor  Rosa  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
cried  frantically,  "  Ames  !  Ames  !  why  cannot  you 
return  my  love  ?  I  love  you  to  idolatry  !  You 
are  my  life,  my  world  !  I  fain  would  die  here  at 
your  feet,"  and  the  infatuated  girl  threw  herself 
upon  her  knees,  and  clung  to  him  in  utter  despair. 

He  lifted  her  gently,  and  seating  himself  by  her 
side  upon  a  sofa,  said,  in  a  low,  soft  voice  :  *'  Rosa, 
you  ask  that  which  is  not  mine  to  give.  You  are 
brilliant  and  handsome  ;  I  admire  you,  and  would 
defend  you  with  my  life,  if  need  be,  as  quick  as  I 
would  one  of  my  own  family,  but  my  heart  is  not 
mine  to  give  ;  it  was  given   long   ago  to  a  sweet 


AMBITION.  I  I  5 

maiden  far,  far  from  here."  As  he  uttered  these 
words,  Rosa  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  confronted 
him  ;  her  large  eyes  flashing  fire,  her  cheeks  as  red 
as  flame,  she  cried  : 

"It  is  enoucrh — beware  !  "  and  before  Ames 
could  detain  her,  she  reached  the  door,  and  was 
gone. 

Ames  paced  the  floor  of  the  'elegant  room 
some  time  after,  musing  upon  the  sudden  turn  of 
affairs,  when  he  suddenly  faced  himself  in  the  mir- 
ror, saying,  "  Well,  Mr.  Skiff,  I  really  think  you 
had  better  pay  your  bill,  and  make  yourself  scarce." 
He  brushed  his  hair  from  his  brow,  and  continued : 
"  I  wonder  why  she  loves  me  ;  it  certainly  is  not  for 
my  good  looks.  But  I  must  not  leave  her  so,  she 
might  do  some  harm  to  herself."  So  saying,  he 
left  the  room,  and  ascendinor  two  flights  of  stairs, 
came  to  the  room  occupied  by  Rosa,  who,  to  his 
great  surprise,  was  hastily  packing  her  trunks.  As 
he  approached,  she  hardly  deigned  to  notice  him. 
But  he  was  not  to  be  put  off  in  this  way.  He 
placed  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder  as  she  was 
kneeling  before  a  trunk,  and  said  :  "  Rosa,  why 
this  sudden  change  ?  Have  you  made  up  your  mind 
to  go  back  to  C.  with  me,  or  will  you  continue  your 
journey  to  Grand  Gulf?  •  I  am  at  your  service 
either  wav." 


Il6  AMBITION. 

She  arose  and  answered,  haughtily  :  "  Mr.  Skiff, 
I  will  continue  my  journey  alone — or,  rather,  I  can 
dispense  with  your  gallant  services." 

*'  Now,  Rosa,  that,  of  course,  is  optional  with 
yourself ;  but  remember,  my  dear  girl,  whenever 
you  stand  in  need  of  a  friend,  hesitate  not  one 
moment  to  call  upon  me,  for  I  still  adhere  to  my 
promise  -given  to  the  little  orphan  circus-rider  years 
ago." 

"  'Tis  well  you  remember  so  well,  Mr.  Skiff," 
said  she,  as  she  mockingly  bowed  before  him.  "  I 
think  our  interview  is  at  an  end,  sir,"  and  she  ad- 
vanced towards  the  door,  opened  it,  and  stood  with 
the  handle  in  her  hand,  as  if  to  invite  the  intruder  out. 

Ames  saw  that  he  had  aroused  all  the  evil  in  her 
nature,  and  with  a  smile  as  mocking  as  her  own, 
approached  the  door,  extended  his  hand,  which  she 
coolly  took,  and  bade  him  farewell,  while  he,  in  turn, 
coolly  walked  out  of  the  room,  with  the  words  : 
*'  Good-bye,  little  Rosa  ;  God  bless  you  wherever 
you  go." 

When  she  closed  the  door,  she  took  good  care 
to  lock  it.  Then  she  threw  up  her  hands,  exclaim- 
ing: "  O  God  !  I  have  driven  away  the  only  true 
friend  I  have  upon  earth  ;  what  shall  I  do !  WHiat 
shall  I  do  !  "  and  the  poor  unfortunate  girl  crouched 
on  the  floor  in  agony  of  spirit. 


AMBITION. 


117 


So  we  must  leave  her  and  follow  Ames,  who 
immediately  went  to  the  office  of  the  hotel,  paid  his 
bill,  and  ordered  his  luggage  to  be  sent  on  board 
the  steamer  bound  for  C.  He  then  paid  Rosa's 
bill,  and  left  a  note  for  her  in  care  of  the  gentle- 
manly clerk,  and  turned  his  back  upon  Vicksburg. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

THE    SUDDEN    RETURN. THE    GLAD    SURPRISE. 

|^»/'XCE  more  we  find  our  hero  pacing  the  deck 
&^  of  the  Sibyl,  another  of  the  grand  float- 
ing palaces  of  the  Father  of  Waters  ;  but  this 
tune  he  is  alone  ;  the  bright  moon  lights  up  the 
lovely  and  grand  views,  as  the  noble  vessel  skims 
over  the  water.  Xo  accident  mars  the  pleasantness 
of  the  homeward  trip.  Merry  sounds  of  revelry 
ascend  from  below,  soft  music  floats  upon  the  mid- 
night air,  from  a  little  select  party  at  the  end  of  the 
upper  deck,,  and  all  seems  happy  and  gay,  as  the 
bells  strike  twelve.  There  is  no  thought  of  sleep 
upon  that  boat,  except  by  a  few  elderly  people,  who 
had  long  since  retired  into  their  state-rooms,  and 
were  soon  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  motion  of  the 
Sibyl  as  she  skims  over  the  blue  waters. 

As  Ames  leaned  over  the  railings,  leisurely  smok- 
ing his  cigar  and  watching  the  curling  smoke  as  he 


AMBITION.  119 

blew  it  off,  yet  listening  to  the  soft  music,  as  it  was 
wafted  in  gentle  murmurs  to  his  ear,  his  thoughts 
would  stray  back  to  the  lonely,  but  imperious  wo- 
man he  had  left  behind  in  a  strange  city,  and  he 
spoke  aloud:  "  I  wonder  why  she  spurned  my  offer 
of  protection  ?  Was  it  indeed  jealousy  ?  Did  she 
object  to  my  little  simple  acts  of  courtesy  to  the 
unfortunate  invalid  who  was  thrust  so  unceremo- 
niously upon  my  care  and  notice?  Bah!  I  must  say 
to  those  thoughts !  Avaunt^ — intrude  not  upon  my 
privacy,  let  her  go  her  own  way,  and  I'll  henceforth 
rid  myself  of  all  responsibility  ;  she  has  spurned  my 
services,  let  it  remain  as  it  is,"  and  he  yawned  and 
went  below. 

Nothing  of  note  transpired  until  the  vessel 
reached  port,  at  early  dawn,  when  everything 
was  in  confusion.  Our  hero  soon  had  his  luggage 
put  upon  a  carriage,  and  seating  himself  told  the 
driver  to  drive  to  the  Ashton  House.  Upon  arriv- 
ing at  which,  he  was  surprised  to  find  a  group  of 
young  men  standing  upon  the  piazza,  engaged  in 
earnest  conversation  at  so  early  an  hour.  As  he 
alighted  from  the  carriage,  he  was  recognized  by 
one  of  the  group,  who  sprang  forward  with  "  My 
God!  there  is  Ames  Skiff,  alive !"  and  forthwith 
grasped  our  hero  by  the  hand,  and  carried  him  into 
the  house  in  triumph,  the  others  following;  all  of 


1 20  AMBITION. 

them  were  surprised  and  overjoyed  at  seeing  him 
again,  for  as  they  said  ;  "  They  never  did  expect  to 
have  him  among  them  in  the  flesh  again,"  so  they 
pinched  him  to  see  if,  indeed,  he  was  a  ghost  or 
mortal. 

They  soon  found  that  he  was  mortal  by  seeing 
him  devour  the  savory  breakfast  that  was  set  be- 
fore him. 

After  breakfast  they  annoyed  him  greatly  with 
questions,  which  he  waived,  telling  them  that  *if 
they  would  promise  to  keep  his  coming  among 
them  secret,  and  meet  him  at  the  club-room  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  he  would  relate  his  adven- 
tures, and  also  his  miraculous  escape.  They  prom- 
ised secrecy,  and  separated  for  their  different  labors. 

That  same  evening,  while  they  were  discussing 
the  events  of  the  day,  the  door  was  thrown  open, 
and,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  except  the  four  friends 
who  had  seen  him  in  the  morning,  Ames  Skiff  ad- 
vanced into  the  centre  of  the  room. 

Henry  DeBar  and  Milton  Smith  alone  kept  their 
seats.  Their  senses  seemed  paralyzed.  They  were 
utterly  unable  to  articulate  one  sentence.  Every 
man  else  started  to  his  feet  at  once,  thinking  it 
was  a  vision.  Some  stood  with  one  hand  shadincr 
their  eyes,  and  with  the  other  grasped  the  back  of 
their  chair.     The  silence  was  painful,  until  Ames, 


AMBITION.  12  1 

in  a  choked  voice,  cried  out  :  *'  My  friends,  it  is  I, 
have  you  no  word  of,  welcome  for  me  ?  " 

Immediately  the  spell  was  broken,  and  several 
stepped  forward  and  grasped  his  hand,  saying  : 
"  We  indeed  thought  it  was  your  spirit ;  for  we 
had  mourned  you  as  dead.  Thank  God  we  once 
more  see  you  in  the  flesh  !  We  bid  you  a  hearty 
welcome." 

''  Thanks,  many  thanks,  my  kind  friends."  Then 
turnincr  to  those  two  friends  who  sat  in  their  chairs 
like  petrified  men,  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand  : 
"  Have  you  no  word  of  welcome  for  me  ?  " 

The  sorrowful  tone  in  which  this  question  was 
asked  seemed  to  arouse  them  to  their  senses,  and 
they  grasped  his  extended  hand,  and  exclaim^ed  : 
"  Ames,  Ames,  we  extend  a  hearty  welcome  !  " 

After  this,  order  seemed  to  have  been  restored 
among  them,  and  our  hero  stood  before  them, 
at  their  request,  and  related  his  misfortunes  and 
escape. 

At  a  late  hour  the  club  separated,  with  many 
thanks  for  the  safe  arrival  of  the  favorite. 

Just  before  the  breaking  up  of  the  meeting,  they 
all   arose,   and    surrounding   Ames,   drank    to    his 
safety  and  future  happiness,  each  in  his  turn  bid- 
dinof  him  a  kind  eood-nig^ht. 
6 


CHAPTER    XXVir. 


THE    ALARM. THE    RESCUE    AND    ITS    RESULTS. 


>E:|pHE  next  morning  the  papers  were  teeming 
i^^  with  the  news  of  the  miraculous  escape  and 

safe  arrival  of  our  hero. 
While  he  was  at  his  breakfast  at  the  hotel,  all 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  him,  for  everybody  had  read 
of  his  arrival,  and  were  prepared  with  keen  glances 
of  curiosity,  which  he  bore  with  modesty  and.  man- 
liness. 

Many  that  were  strangers  before  sought  and 
received  an  introduction,  and  congratulated  him 
upon  his  heroism  in  the  hour  of  danger.  One  old 
gentleman  said,  as  he  shook  him  cordially  by  the 
hand  :  "  Well,  sir,  I  have  heard  of  you  in  my  far- 
off  home,  and  now  have  the  unexpected  pleasure 
of  taking  you  b}^  the  hand  ;  but  I  hope  the  next 
time  I  have  this  pleasure  it  will  be  in  the  White 
House  at  Washington,  for,  if  virtue  and  bravery 


AMBITION.  123 

t 

will  ever  have  Its  reward,  the  people  will  not  be 
satisfied  until  they  raise  you  to  the  highest  posi- 
tion It  Is  In  their  power  to  give." 

Ames  blushed,  and  laughingly  said,  that  was  the 
destiny  he  had  marked  out  for  himself,  when  he 
ran  away  from  the  circus,  but  since  he  had  become 
a  man,  he  knew  what  such  castle's  In  the  air  were 
worth. 

Although,  by  his  Industry  and  perseverance,  he 
had  accomplished  so  much,  he  mistrusted  his  abili- 
ties to  gain  so  high  an  eminence  ;  that  he  felt  highly 
flattered  by  the  encomiums  bestowed  upon  him,  and 
aeain  thanking  the  old  crentleman,  he  made  his 
escape  from  the  throng  of  idlers.  Scarcely  had  he 
reached  the  front  door  of  the  hotel,  when  the  cry 
of  "  mad-dog  "  reached  his  ear,  and  looking  in  the 
direction  from  w^hence  came  the  dreadful  sound,  he 
saw  a  large  Newfoundland  dog,  belonging  to  a 
friend  of  his,  running  at  full  speed  up  the  street, 
snapping  at  everything  It  came  In  contact  with. 

Just  then  two  young  ladies  with  a  little  boy  came 
around  the  corner,  and  the  dog,  foaming  and  snap- 
ping, ijiade  straight  for  them.  At  this  terrible  mo- 
ment, three  young  men  reached  the  spot,  and  the 
foremost  one  ran  near  the  side  of  the  animal  and 
fired.  Seeing  It  did  not  take  effect,  he  brought 
down  h'ls  piece  with  full  force  upon  Its  head,  which 


1 24  AMBITION. 

had  the  effect  of  bringing  down  the  monster,  while 
the  two  companions  fired  upon  him,  and  the  once 
noble  but  unfortunate  brute  lay  dead  at  their  feet. 

While  this  terrible  scene  was  being  enacted, 
hundreds  of  persons  that  witnessed  it,  put  their 
hands  over  their  ears  to  shut  out  the  sounds  of  the 
heartrending  screams  of  the  poor  affrighted  women, 
who  were  so  miraculously  saved  from  a  most  horri- 
ble death. 

Neither  of  them  fainted,  but  were  conscious  of 
their  danger,  and  thankful  for  their  timely  delivery 
from  certain  death.  And  when  they  tremblingly 
turned  to  thank  their  noble  deliverers,  one  of  them 
cried  out  :  "  Oh !  oh!  it  is  Ames  Skiff!  "  and  not 
until  then,  did  senses  forsake  her,  when  she  would 
have  fallen,  had  not  the  noble  Ames  caught  her  in 
his  arms,  and,  amid  vociferous  cheers  from  the  ex- 
cited crowd,  bore  her  (followed  by  the  other 
lady  and  boy)  into  the  ladies'  parlor  of  the  hotel. 
He  laid  her  gently  upon  a  sofa,  and  called  for  re- 
storatives, then  left  her  in  the  care  of  the  ladies,  who 
vied  with  each  other  in  doing  good  for  the  poor 
frightened  woman. 

When  Ames  returned  to  the  main  entrance  of 
the  hotel,  he  w^as  received  with  shouts  and  waving 
of  handkerchiefs,  which  he  acknowledged  with  a 
modest  bow,  and  made  way  for  his  two  brave  com- 


AMBIIIOX.  125 

panlons,  who  were  being  congratulated  on  every 
side.  Those  two  brave  men  were  none  other  than 
our  old  friends,  Henry  DeBar  and  Milton  Smith. 

After  giving  directions  to  a  poor  laborer  to  re- 
move the  carcass  of  the  poor  brute,  that  it  should 
not  meet  the  eyes  of  the  ladies  as  they  came  out, 
and  rewarding  him  for  his  trouble,  Ames  turned 
his  back  upon  the  excited  multitude,  and  re-entered 
the  parlor,  when  all  made  way  for  him,  as  he 
advanced  towards  the  sofa,  upon  which  sat  the 
young  lady  whom  he  had  rescued. 

She  arose  and  gave  him  her  hand,  and  with  the 
greatest  agitation,  said  :  "  Thank  you,  Mr.  Skiff, 
for  saving  my  life,  and  the  lives  of  those  I 
love !  " 

With  scarcely  less  emotion  than  she  manifested, 
he  took  the  extended  hand,  and  bowed  over  'it 
with  reverence,  then  said,  in  a  low,  but  manly 
voice  :  "  I  am  only  too  proud  to  be  the  humble 
deliverer  of  one  I  prize  above  all  on  earth.  Annie! 
I  am  glad  to  see  that  your  humble  friend  is  not 
forgotten." 

As  the  ladies,  who  had  been  most  kind  in  their 
endeavors  to  resuscitate  the  gentle  girl,  found  their 
presence  was  no  longer  required,  they  modestly 
withdrew,  offering  their  services,  if  further  needed. 

Ames  still  held  the  hand  of  the  gentle  girl,  who 


126  AMBITION. 

blushed  deeply.  When  he  said  he  was  glad  he  was 
not  forgotten,  the  reply  was  given  in  a  low,  musical 
voice  : 

"  Mr.  Skiff,  I  have  never  forgotten  the  great  ser- 
vice which  you  rendered  my  unhappy  uncle.  If 
you  were  to  see  him  now  in  his  happy  home,  sur- 
rounded by  his  lovely  children  !  The  oldest  boy  I 
have  now  with  me,  and  it  was  he  whom  you  rescued. 
Oh;  have  not  I  enough  to  hold  you  in  grateful  re- 
membrance ?   Now,  do  I  not  owe  you  my  own  life  ?  " 

At  this  declaration  our  hero  seemed  emboldened, 
and  as  he  was  seated  beside  her  upon  the  sofa,  he 
leaned  over,  and  taking  the  little  white  hand  within 
his  own,  said,  as  he  gently  pressed  it  : 

"  May  I  claim  that  life  as  my  reward,  sweet 
Annie  ?  I  have  waited  years  for  this  hour,  and 
bless  this  accident,  as  it  has  not  resulted  fatally. 
Am  I  too  bold  in  asking  that  all-important  ques- 
tion?" and  his  head  bent  lower,  as  he  earnestly 
asked  :  "  Annie,  will  you  be  my  wife  ?  Encourage 
me,  and  I  am  yours  for  life.  Repulse  me,  and  I 
will  not  intrude  upon  you  ever  again.  I  am  an 
honorable  man,  and  ask  the  simple,  but  all-impor- 
tant question,  which  only  awaits  your  answer,  yes, 
or  no.     Which  will  it  be,  Annie?" 

Annie  whispered,  while  her  face  was  suffused 
with  blushes,  ''  Yes  !  " 


AMBITION.  127 

''  Bless  you,  dearest.  But  tell  me,  is  this  a  debt  of 
gratitude,  or  love  ?  I  will  be  proud  of  my  treasure 
if  it  is  gratitude  that  prompts  the  bestowal  of  your 
hand,  but  will  not  rest  content  or  be  happy  without 
your  love,"  and  his  arm  somehow  stole  around  her 
waist,  and  she  leaned  her  blushing  face  upon  his 
broad  shoulder,  as  she  faintly  answered,  ''  Ames,  I 
have  loved  you  long  years  ago  !  "  At  which  can- 
did avowal  Ames  pressed  her  to  his  noble  heart, 
and  imprinted  his  first  kiss  of  love  upon  her  rosy 
lips,  crying,  excitedly,  "  Mine, 'mine  at  last!  " 

So  we  must  leave  them  in  their  revelry  of  love's 
young  dream. 


CHAPTER      XXVIII 


M)^^ 


THE    DOUBLE    SURPRISE. 


i^frS  Ames  was  sitting  alone  in  his  office  one 
(fy     stormy  day,  long  after  his  betrothal,  the 


door  was  thrown  open,  and  his  friend 
Henry  DeBar  advanced  to  where  he  was  sitting, 
without  the  least  ceremony,  and  said,  in  an  ex- 
cited manner  : 

"  Ames,  are  you  aware  that  Clarence  McMurdy 
has  returned,  and  is  now  at  the  Ashton  House? 
There  are  crowds  waiting  upon  kim.  They  say 
that  he  has  returned  from  the  mines  immensely 
wealthy.  Don't  you  think  that  we  ought  to  wait 
upon  him  immediately,  with  the  earnest  desire  that 
he  should  leave  the  place  in  less  than  twenty-four 
hours,  for  you  know  that  he  has  committed  an  out- 
rage upon  society  ;  therefore  should  be  removed 
without  delay." 

Our  hero  heard  his  friend  through  without  the 
least  interruption,  then,  taking  his  cigar  from  his 


AMBITION.  129 

mouth  and  slowly  shaking  off  the  ashes,  said  coolly, 
much  to  the  astonishment  of  his  irate  friend  : 

"  Well,  the  fact  is,  Henry,  I  feel  a  little  too 
happy  to  meddle  with  other  people's  business. 
Xow,  look  here,  old  fellow!  This  offense  was  com- 
mitted a  long  while  ago,  and  as  it  did  not  prove 
fatal,  why  should  we  pursue  him  further  ?  Per- 
haps he  still  suffers  from  the  sharp  sting  of  remorse. 
Who  knows?  But,  as  we  expect  to  be  forgiven 
some  day  or  other  the  offenses  done  in  the  body, 
wh)',  my  boy,  we  must  forgive  our  fellow  man.  Take 
all  things  into  consideration  :  this  Is  a  free  country, 
and  he  has  a  right  to  return;  and  we  were  furiously 
angry  at  the  time  we  exiled  the  poor  wretch  ;.  for, 
as  you  say,  an  outrage  had  been  committed  against 
society,  and  we  set  ourselves  up  as  righteous  vindi- 
cators of  said  society.  Now,  after  years,  by  some 
streak  of  luck,  he  returns  with  a  large  fortune  ;  let 
us  welcome  him  as  a  penitent,  if  he  shows  any 
contrition  for  what  he  has  done.  Now,  listen,  old 
fellow.  I  am  the  most  fortunate  man  about.  I  have 
secured  the  prize  that  I  have  longed  for  many 
years.  Why,  Henry,  did  you  think  that  while  we 
were  chasing  the  rabid  dog,  I  was  meeting  my 
fate  ?     I  say,  old  boy. 


There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Roi 
6* 


Rough  hew  them  how  we  will.' 


130  AMBITION. 

''  So  here  goes !  I  am  soon  to  be  married,  and 
want  you  to  act  as  groomsman." 

"  Give  us  your  hand,  old  boy,"  and  Henry 
grasped  the  hand  of  his  friend  eagerly,  saying,  at  the 
same  time,  that  he  asked  too  much,  for  he  was 
to  be  married  himself  on  the  next  evening,  but  as  it 
was  going  to  be  a  very  quiet  affair,  he  did  not  in- 
tend to  let  any  one  know  until  they  were  apprised 
of  the  all-important  fact  through  the  medium  of  the 
press. 

It  was  now  Ames'  turn  to  be  surprised,  and  con- 
gratulate his  friend,  saying:  "Ah!  you  have  a 
young  family  to  go  straight  to  house-keeping  with, 
while  I  will  have  to  wait  long  years  for  such  happi- 
ness." 

"  Yes,  thank  Heaven  !"  said  Henry,  "  they  have 
been  under  the  best  tuition  for  three  years,  and  I 
am  not  ashamed  to  bring  them  forward  into  so- 
ciety. Little  Maggie  will  be  a  shining  light,  I'll 
assure  you  ;  she  has  a  magnificent  voice,  and  has  a 
quick  ear  for  music  ;  she  already  plays  well  ;  that 
new  uncle  of  hers  never  seems  tired  of  gazing  into 
her  sweet  face,  but  moans  continually  about  her 
being  just  like  her  mother  was  when  she  was  her 
age.  I  think  he  must  have  been  in  love  with  her, 
and  being  disappointed,  left  the  country  until  his 
grief  was  assuaged. 


AMBITION.  131 

"  Why  don't  you  give  him  the  entire  control  and 
expense,  too,  of  the  children,  if  he  likes?"  said 
Ames. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Ames,  I  would  not  part  from 
my  treasures  for  him  or  any  other  man.  He  has 
often  requested  me  to  yield  my  right,  because  of 
his  prior  claim  upon  the  mother  I  presume,  but 
nothing  shall  ever  cause  me  to  give  away  my 
little  brood  that  God  directed  me  to  that  stormy 
day.  No,  sir !  My  heart  is  bound  up  in  those 
children.  I  am  father,  mother,  uncle  and  every- 
thing to  them,  until  at  the  altar  I  give  them  a 
new  mother  in  the  gentle,  pure  woman  whom  they 
call  auntie.  She  has  been  indefatigable  in  her  en- 
deavors  to  cultivate  their  young  minds,  and  so  far 
has  been  most  successful.  Oh,  I  tell  you,  my 
friend,  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for." 

In  a  few  days  after  the  above  conversation,  there 
was  a  quiet  wedding  at  the  neat  residence  of  Mrs. 
Sutton,  only  a  few  select  friends  were  invited. 

The  bride  was  dressed  in  pure  white,  her 
hair  worn  plain  as  usual,  with  a  wreath  of  orange 
blossoms,  and  a  long  veil  nearly  reaching  to  her 
feet. 

Very  lovely  did  she  look  without  ornaments  of 
any  kind.  Her  face  was  suffused  with  blushes,  as 
she  tremblingly  answered  "yes,"  to  the  minister's 


132  AMBITION. 

question,  "  Wilt  thou  have  this  man  to  be  thine 
husband  ?  " 

Little  Maggie  was  also  dressed  in  white,  for  she 
acted  as  bridesmaid,  and  Ernest,  her  brother,  acted 
as  groomsman — lovely  and  blooming  did  they 
look. 

When  the  ceremony  was  over  Ames  approached 
the  bride  to  congratulate  her,  but  was  surprised  to 
see  Maggie  stand  in  front  of  her  as  though  to  de- 
fend her  from  some  attack.  Henry  was  much 
amused  when  she  said  :  "  This  is  my  auntie  ;  you 
must  not  crush  her  pretty  dress." 

Ames  stooped  and  whispered  something  to  the 
little  girl,  when  she  left  the  room,  and  everything 
went  on  as  usual  until  the  folding-doors  were 
thrown  open  and  Maggie  stood  upon  the  thresh- 
old and  beckoned  to  the  bridal  party  to  advance  ; 
when,  to  their  utter  surprise,  they  found  a  table  set. 
In  the  centre  was  a  splendid  pyramid  cake,  and 
several  ornamented  boxes  strewn  over  the  table. 
These  were  presents  from  friends  who  left  it  en- 
tirely under  the  management  of  Ames,  who,  to 
gain  the  favor  of  the  child  gave  it  over  to  her. 
She,  like  a  little  woman,  arranged  them  upon  the 
table,  placing  also  the  bridal-cake  on  each  side  of 
the  pyramid.  When  the  party  approached  the 
table  Maggie  gave  the  knife  to  the  bride,  who  in- 


AMBITION.  133 

stantly  cut  the  silver  cake,  then  handed  the  knife  to 
the  groom,  when  he  did  Hkewise  with  the  fruit-cake 
— which  is  always  the  groom's  cake. 

After  the  cake-cutting  Maggie  presented  each 
box  with  a  card  attached,  with  the  compliments 
of  the  giver.  The  first  box  opened  happened 
to  be  from  Ames — it  consisted  of  an  entire  set 
of  pearls.  The  next  was  from  the  groom — a 
magnificent  set  of  diamonds  ;  the  next  was  a  splen- 
did gold  watch  and  chain  from  her  uncle  ;  the  next 
was  a  fine  large  Turkey- Morocco  Bible  (with  a 
mother's  blessing  inscribed  on  the*  cover).  Each 
box  in  turn  was  opened,  and  displayed  jewelry  of 
every  conceivable  design,  until,  at  last,  Maggie 
lifted  the  cloth  and  asked  her  good  uncle,  "  Please 
to  take  the  large  box  from  under  the  table."  He 
did  so  ;  and  soon  they  knocked  off  one  side  ; 
when,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  except  Henry, 
they  beheld  the  three  children  painted  as  large  as 
life  upon  canvas  before  them,  and,  upon  the  heavy 
frame,  in  large  gold  letters,  were  the  words :  ''  Mv 
Jewels." 

Every  eye  was  upon  Henry,  who  seemed  very 
proud,  as  he  tore  off  the  balance  of  the  box,  and 
with  the  help  of  Ames  placed  it  before  the  bride, 
who  placed  her  hand  in  his  and  said,  with  deep 
emotion  : 


1 34  AMBITION. 

*'  Words  are  inadequate  to  express  my  gratitude, 
my  husband!"  and  every  one  flocked  around  to  see 
the  beautiful  painting. 

A  little  while  after  ever\-  one  was  surprised  to  see 
Ma^fcrie  crive  the  bride  two  little  boxes  ;  the  first 
contained  a  set  of  jewelr}'  made  entirely  of  hair 
cut  from  her  own  head  ;  the  second  contained  a 
beautifully  bound  velvet  Prayer-book  from  her 
brother.  These  simple  tokens  of  love  and  grati- 
tude caused  the  tears  to  well  up  into  her  eyes  as 
she  kissed  them  tenderly.  So  ended  the  quiet 
weddine. 


CHAPTER     XXIX. 


THE    SAD    HISTORY    OF     FRANK     HARDY  S    EARLY  LIFE. 

f=]^NCE  upon  a  time,  as  a  fairy  tale  com- 
mences, there  lived  in  the  great  city  of 
New  York  a  wealthy  gentleman.  His 
family  consisted  of  a  son  and  two  daughters,  with 
a  lovely  gentle  wife.  For  years  everything  went 
on  smoothly  ;  not  a  cloud  had  arisen  in  their 
bright  horizon  ;  everything  was  prosperous  and 
lovely. 

One  day  in  December,  when  the  earth  had  ar- 
rayed herself  as  a  bride,  Millie  Hardy  was  decked 
in  her  bridal  robes  and  stood  before  the  man  of 
God  to  be  united  in  the  bonds  of  holy  wedlock 
to  Captain  Malcolm  Sutton,  of  the  United  States 
Armv,  as  crallant  an  officer  as  ever  drew  his  sword 
in  defense  of  his  country.  The  handsome  couple 
received  the  congratulations  of  their  friends,  and 
departed  Immediately  for  his  post  of  duty. 


136  AMBITION. 

Again  all  was  well  with  the  family  until  the  next 
October,  when  there  came  the  terrible  news  that 
Mr.  Hardy  had  become  bankrupt.  His  creditors 
were,  of  course,  clamorous  for  their  dues,  and  the 
honest  and  high-minded  couple  left  their  palatial 
residence,  taking  only  a  few  household  effects  and 
little  souvenirs,  went  to  housekeeping  on  a  small 
scale  in  a  neat  little  brick  house  on  a  quiet  street. 
Everything  was  soon  sold,  and  the  creditors  satis- 
fied, but  the  old  gentleman's  health  began  to  fade. 
He  had  never  in  his  life  known  what  poverty  was. 
Being  of  a  wealthy  and  aristocratic  family,  he  could 
not  endure  the  humiliation,  and  soon  faded  ;  so, 
when  spring  spread  her  green  mantle  over  the 
earth,  he  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  a  few  faith- 
ful friends,  who  erected  a  marble  monument  to  his 
memory,  and  gave  him  a  long  obituary  ;  when  that 
was  done,  they  seemed  to  forget  that  he  had  left  a 
helpless  family,  who  stood  upon  the  brink  of  pov- 
erty, and  needed  only  a  kind  hand  to  lead  them 
again  to  the  threshold  of  prosperity. 

Some  time  after  Mr.  Hardy  was  consigned  to 
the  grave,  Etta,  the  youngest  girl,  sought  and  ob- 
tained a  situation  as  governess  in  a  wealthy  family, 
who  became  very  much  attached  to  her.  Time 
wore  on,  and  one  day  there  came  from  India  Mrs. 
Lacy's  elegant  brother,  Walter  Moore. 


AMBITION.  137 

When  Etta  was  first  introduced  to  him,  she 
thought  that  she  had  seen  that  face  before,  for  no 
one  could  ever  look  into  that  handsome  face,  and 
see  that  rare  beautiful  smile,  and  ever  forget  it. 

Often  would  Walter  accompany  her  in  her  ram- 
bles with  the  children,  and  take  delight  in  doing 
so.  When  all  was  still  except  the  faint  sounds  of 
music  from  the  parlor,  he  would  always  find  his 
way  in  there ;  and  when  she  would  see  him  enter, 
she  would  leave. 

One  evening  she  was  seated  thus,  when  she 
leaned  her  head  upon  the  piano,  and  sighed  heavily, 
a  hand  was  laid  gently  upon  the  bowed  head, 
and  a  kindly  voice  said  :  "  Etta  !  "  She  raised  her 
head,  and  would  have  escaped,  but  he  gently  de- 
tained her,  seated  her  upon  a  sofa,  and  asked  her 
if  she  would  listen  to  one  word  from  him,  if  she 
thought  he  was  worth  wasting  her  time  upon. 

She  tremblingly  and  blushingly  took  the  prof- 
fered seat,  saying  she  would  be  pleased  to  give  all 
attention  to  what  he  had  to  say. 

"  Etta,"  he  began,  *'  have  you  entirely  forgotten 
Walter  Ash  ton  ?  " 

She  started  in  astonishment  to  her  feet,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  Walter  Ashton  !  What  of  him  ?  "  And 
she  sunk  again  in  her  seat,  and  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands. 


138  AMBITION. 

In  a  moment,  Walter  was  on  his  knees  before 
her,  crying  wildly,  ''  Etta,  Etta,  darling,  behold  me 
at  your  feet,  I  am  Walter  Ashton.  I  love  you 
still.  Say  you  forgive  me,  and  I  will  make  you  my 
wife  before  the  world.  I  deceived  you  only  in 
name.  It  was  only  a  joke  of  one  of  my  friends. 
Forgive,  oh!  forgive  me,  or  I  will  go  away,  and 
never  will  look  upon  your  sweet  face  again. 

The  gentle  girl  forgave  her  first  and  only  lover  ; 
and,  to  the  surprise  of  Mrs.  Lacy,  soon  became 
Mrs.  Walter  Ashton  Moore. 

The  happy  couple  went  only  to  bid  Mrs.  Hardy 
adieu  and  receive  her  blessing,  and  left  the  country. 

In  the  meantime,  Frank  obtained  a  lucrative 
position  in  a  store,  where  he  soon  won  the  esteem 
of  all  connected  with  him. 

Years  rolled  on.  Then  came  the  tidings  of  the 
death  of  Walter  Ashton  Moore  and  his  beautiful 
wife,  by  yellow  fever,  in  New  Orleans.  They  left 
one  child,  a  handsome  bov,  whom  his  o^uardian 
placed  in  college. 

One  day  there  was  a  considerable  amount  of 
notes  missinof  from  the  drawer  of  the  store  where 
young  Hardy  was  employed,  and  his  employer 
strongly  suspected  him  of  embezzlement,  when 
he  thought  he  would  detect  him  in  the  theft  by 
putting  a  secret  mark  upon  the  notes,  which  thing 


AMBITION.  1 39 

he  did,  and  found  they  disappeared  as  fast  as  the 
others  did. 

One  day,  he  called  Frank  to  him,  and  told  him 
that  he  was  suspected  of  theft,  and  therefore  he 
felt  it  was  his  duty  to  discharge  him ;  that  he  could 
not,  for  his  mother's  sake,  have  him  .arrested, 
though  by  right  he  should  do  so. 

The  young  man  declared  again  and  again  his 
innocence,  but  the  old  gentleman  was  inexorable, 
and  young  Hardy  left  his  presence  with  almost  a 
broken  heart. 

He  tried  to  gain  employment,  but  failed  in  conse- 
quence of  not  having  a  recommendation  from  his 
last  employer.  He  did  not  know  what  to  do,  or  how 
was  he  going  to  leave  his  mother,  who  believed 
him  innocent.  Time  wore  on,  and  his  mother  sold 
one  thing  after  the  other  to  pay  the  rent,  and  for 
what  they  ate,  but  nothing  could  assuage  the  grief 
of  Frank.  The  thouo^ht  of  committino-  suicide  often 
pressed  itself  upon  him,  but  his  mother  kept  him 
from  it. 

One  day,  while  looking  into  the  window  of  a 
jeweler,  he  was  tempted  to  smash  the  window  and 
steal  what  he  could,  so  he  would  be  put  in  prison 
to  escape  the  miserable  life  he  was  living  ;  when, 
to  his  surprise,  he  heard  familiar  voices  behind  him 
saying  : 


140  AMBITION. 

'*  If  we  could  only  find  poor  Hardy,  we  would 
make  all  reparation 'in  our  power." 

A  dizziness  came  over  him,  and  he  fell  to  the 
earth.  The  two  men  saw  him  fall  and  rushed  to 
him,  picked  him  up,  when  the  younger  one  said  : 

*' My  heavens!  It  is  Frank  Hardy!"  and  they 
carried  him  to  a  drug  store,  where  he  was  kindly 
attended  to  and  soon  recovered,  when  he  begged 
piteously  to  let  him  go  home.  The  young  man 
extended  his  hand  kindly,  and  said  : 

'*  Frank!  don't  you  remember  me  ?  " 

Frank  shook  his  head  and  whispered : 

''  Indeed,  I  think  I  oueht." 

*'  Now,  Frank,  listen,"  said  the  young  man. 
"  I  am  your  friend.  I  have  been  searching  for  you 
for  some  time  to  make  all  the  reparation  in  our 
power.  Long  after  you  left  my  father's  store  he 
made  some  alteration  in  it,  and,  in  pulling  down 
an  old  closet,  the-  workmen  came  upon  a  rat's  nest, 
and,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  the  marked  notes  were 
found !  when  it  was  supposed  the  mother  rat  had 
stolen  them  to  make  a  bed  for  her  young  ones. 

"  Now,  come  ;  my  father  is  waiting  for  you  to 
come  and  be  reinstated,  both  in  your  place  in  the 
store  and  in  his  heart,  for  he  hates  to  think  you 
unofrateful  to  him." 

Frank  said    he   could  not  present  himself  in  such 


AMBITION.  141 

a  miserable  condition,  but  would  do  so  in  a  few 
days. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  the  clothes,"  said  his  friend, 
and  he  called  a  carriage,  and  insisted  upon  Frank 
accompanying  him  home,  where  he  was  received 
graciously  as  a  lost  one  of  the  family. 

The  wheel  of  fortune  turned  in  his  favor  once 
more.  Frank  had  his  salary  given  him  for  the 
time  he  was  dismissed ;  and,  more  than  that,  the 
widow  had  the  deed  of  a  small  handsome  house 
and  furniture  presented  to  her  by  Frank's  em- 
ployer for  the  suffering  he  had  caused  her.  When 
all  this  happened  Frank  was  not  more  than  twenty 
years  of  age.  Time  passed  ;  his  mother  was  laid 
beside  his  father  in  Greenwood,  and  having  no 
tie  he  sold  his  house  and  went  abroad,  where  he 
amassed  a  large  fortune,  and  we  find  him  in  the 
City  of  C . 


CHAPTER     XXX. 


THE    SINGULAR    MEETING  OF    UNCLE    AND    NEPHEW. 

mJ^N  a  fine  day,  while  a  party  of  friends  were 
\^^  at  the  picture  gallery  of  Mertenich,  our 
hero,  Ames  Skiff,  called  the  attention  of 
Mr.  Hardy  to  a  splendid  landscape  by  Moore. 
Hardy  scrutinized  the  painting  carefully,  then 
turning  to  Ames,  said,  musingly  :  "  Moore,  Moore ; 
where  is  he  from,  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  believe  he  was  born  in  Paris.  He  is  not 
a  poor  artist,  as  you  imagine,  but  a  gentleman  of 
leisure.  His  mother  and  father  died  when  he  was 
very  young,  with  yellow  fever,  while  on  a  visit  to 
New  Orleans." 

"  Stay!"  and  Hardy  clutched  the  shoulder  of  the 
astonished  Ames,  while  his  very  hair  seemed  to 
stand  on  end,  and  his  eyes  dilate  half  their  nat- 
ural size. 

*'  My  dear  fellow,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 


AMBITION.  143 

are  you  ill  ? "  and  Ames  led  him  to  a  seat  where  he 
asked  him  to  explain  his  singular  conduct. 

*'  Now,  listen,"  said  Hardy.  "  I  had  a  sister 
who  died  with  yellow  fever.  She  left  a  boy  ;  his 
name  was  Ashton  Mcore — is  it  he?" 

It  was  now  Ames'  place  to  be  astonished  ;  he 
gave  a  perceptible  start  ;  then,  recovering  himself, 
grasped  the  hand  of  Hardy,  saying  : 

"  Hardy,  I  think  it  is  he  ;  would  you  know  him 
by  his  picture  ?  If  so,  come  to  my  home,  and  I 
will  show  you  one  he  had  taken  before  he  left  for 
Europe." 

The  poor  man  accepted  eagerly,  and,  according 
to  promise,  the  next  morning  found  him  in  Ames' 
room  anxiously  examining  the  miniature  of  Ashton 
Moore,  whom  he  immediately  recognized  as  his 
kinsman  by  the  blended  likeness  of  both  father 
and  mother. 

Ames  was  much  affected  as  he  gazed  upon  the 
grief-stricken  man  with  his  head  bowed  in  silence, 
looking  wistfully  at  the  handsome  picture  before 
him,  while  he  groaned  aloud,  saying  : 

"  My  sister!  my  poor  sister  !" 

''  Now,  Hardy,  don't  take  on  so  ;  you  will  soon 
have  the  pleasure  of  beholding  your  nephew  in  the 
flesh,  for  his  time  is  up  and  he  will  soon  be  here, 
although    I    have    not    heard    from    him  for  three 


144  AMBITION. 

weeks.  His  last  letter  was  to  the  effect  that  he 
would  not  write  again,  but  would  come  unbidden. 
Now,  shake  hands,  Hardy!"  and  Ames  whispered, 
"  you  will  be  nearer  than  you  expect  to  me,  for  I 
welcome  Ashton  as  a  brother — he  will  soon  marry 
my  sister." 

Hardy  grasped  the  hand  of  Ames  and  said  : 

"  Bless  you !  Have  you  been  kind  to  the  or- 
phan ? '' 

At  this  moment  they  were  interrupted  by  the 
door  being  thrown  open,  and  Milton  Smith  rushed 
in  saying  : 

"  What  will  you  give  for  good  news,  old  boy  ?" 
and,  just  then,  another  form  rushed  past  him  and 
Ashton  Moore  extended  his  hand  to  his  friend, 
who  was  greatly  surprised  but  none  the  less  de- 
lighted at  the  interruption.  After  the  greeting 
was  over,  Ames  said  to  his  friend  : 

"  I  have  more  news  for  you  than  you  have  for 
me,"  and  he  led  Ashton  before  Mr.  Hardy,  say- 
ing : 

"  Now,  Hardy,  this  is  he  of  whom  I  spoke  ;  this 
is  my  friend  and  brother,  Ashton  Moore. " 

By  this  time  Hardy  was  deaf  to  what  he  said  ; 
his  head  fell  forward,  and  in  a  moment  more  he 
had  measured  his  length  upon  the  floor.  The 
young  men  dashed  water  in  his  face,  and  uhfast- 


AMBITION.  145 

ened  his  cravat,  and  soon  he  showed  signs  of  re- 
turnincr  Hfe.     The  first  words  were  : 

''  My  sister  !  my  sister  !  " 

Ashton  kneh  beside  him  chafing  his  hands,  when 
he  opened  his  eyes  and  fixed  them  intently 
upon  him,  saying  :  "  It  is  he !    I'm  sure  it  is  he  !  " 

i\shton  said,  in  a  soft  voice  :  "  Yes,  uncle,  it  is 
I,"  and  the  two  young  men  raised  him  upon  his 
feet;  catching  the  air  from  the  open  window,  he 
soon  revived,  and  folding  Ashton  in  his  arms  as 
though  he  were  a  boy,  wept  bitterly. 

Nothintr  but  his  sobs  broke  the  silence  for  some 
time.  At  length  Ashton  said,  as  he  released  him- 
self from  the  fond  embrace  : 

''  Uncle  Frank,  I  have  often  heard  my  mother 
speak  of  you  and  Aunt  Millie.  Tell  me,  js  she  liv- 
ing yet  ?  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  the  orphan  boy 
does  not  stand  alone  in  the  world,  as  he  expected. 
I  was  anticipating  great  comfort  in  having  a 
brother  in  this  noble-hearted  man,  but  now  my 
cup  of  happiness  is  full.  O  God!  I  thank  thee," 
and  the  poor  fellow,  who  had  held  out  so  bravely, 
lost  all  control  of  himself,  and  wept  with  his  face 
buried  in  his  hands,  while  he  cried  aloud  "O 
my  sainted  mother !  has  thy  spirit  always  kept 
guard  over  me  ?  " 

The  three  friends  looked  on  in  silence.  When 
this  paroxysm  was  over,  they  all  separated. 


^^^^>^2^^^Ss^a^^ 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ASHTON  MOORE  MEETS  WITH  NOTHING  BUT  SURPRISES. 

'\q|3HE  clay  following,  Frank  Hardy  called  upon 
v:/"^      Ashton  at    his  hotel,  and  after  an  hour's 

^  ^  conversation,  he  drew  from  him  all  he 
knew  concerning  his  parents,  and  seemed  over- 
joyed at  finding  his  nephew  so  handsome  and 
intelligent.  He  arose  and  invited  Ashton  to  ride 
with  him  to  see  a  very  dear  friend  of  his  mother's, 
which  Ashton  readily  accepted  ;  and  on  entering  the 
carriage,  gave  orders  to  drive  to  Woodbine  Cottage. 

About  half  an  hour  afterwards,  the  carriage 
stopped  before  an  elegant  cottage,  and  a  little  girl 
met  them  at  the  gate.  It  was  Maggie,  who  was 
iust  returning  from  school,  with  her  books  in  her 
arms  and  her  hat  hanging  down  on  her  neck — the 
cord  alone  kept  it  from  falling  off. 

When  she  saw  Mr.  Hardy,  she  ran  towards  him, 
crying  :  ''  Oh,  uncle,  uncle!  I've  got  something  to 
tell  you.     My  mother  has  got  a  new  little  sister  for 


AMBITION.  147 

me.  Papa  went  out  to  look  for  you.  Do  come 
and  see  my  little  sister  !  I  was  just  going  to  see  if 
grandma  is  at  home  yet.  She  was  at  my  house 
when  I  went  to  school." 

•  By  the  time  Maggie  had  delivered  this  harangue 
Ashton  jumped  out  of  the  carriage  ;  when  she 
looked  astonished  at  seeing  a  stranger,  and  waited 
for  an  introduction,  which  Uncle  Hardy  soon  gave. 

When  she  heard  her  uncle  call  him  Ashton,  she 
said  :  ''  Why,  he  must  be  something  to  me  !  Now, 
I  wonder  who  he  is." 

She  put  down  her  books,  and  took  each  gentle- 
man by  the  hand,  and  led  them  into  the  beautiful 
little  parlor.     Then  left  them. 

They  had  not  been  there  many  minutes  before 
she  returned,  leading  by  the  hand  Mrs.  Sutton, 
who  advanced  towards  her  brother,  who  said  : 
"  Millie,  don't  you  remember  Etta  had  a  son, 
Ashton?" 

Ashton  started  to  his  feet,  and  exclaiming, 
''  Aunt  Millie  !  "  while  the  poor  woman  screamed, 
''  Ashton  !  "  "  Etta!  "  and  fell  fainting  in  his  arms. 

Poor  Ashton  held  her  in  his  arms.  He  seemed 
unwilling  to  yield  her  even  by  the  earnest  solici- 
tude of  Maggie — ''  that  it  was  essential  to  place 
her  back  upon  the  sofa  to  bring  her  too." 

Ashton    cried  again  and  again  :    ''  My  mother, 


148  AMBITION. 

my  mother!  "  For,  as  he  said  afterwards,  "  I,  who 
felt  a  mother's  loving  arms  around  me  when  a 
boy,  felt  that  she  was  near  me  then." 

It  was  a  long  while  before  Mrs.  Sutton  could  be 
resuscitated.  Maggie  was  busy  as  a  bee,  while 
poor  Frank  Hardy  walked  the  floor,  and  wrung  his 
hands,  crying  :  "  Oh,  I  have  been  too  precipitate  ! 
My  sister !  Millie,  Millie  !  speak  to  me.  And  the 
poor  distracted  man  knelt  over  her,  at  one  moment 
calling  her  endearing  names,  then  the  next  would 
wring  his  hands  and  walk  the  floor. 

At  length,  when  Mrs.  Sutton  showed  signs  of 
returning  life,  he  seemed  delighted,  and  was  as 
bright  as  a  boy.  He  took  the  poor  woman  In  his 
strong  arms,  and  kissed  her  white  brow,  and,  in  a 
cheerful  voice,  said  :  "  Sister,  let  me  congratulate 
you  upon  being  a  grandmother!  " 

Mrs.  Sutton  smiled,  and  asked  him  who  made 
him  so  wise,  when  he  pointed  to  Maggie,  saying  : 
''My  little  Maggie!" 

Maggie  seemed  to  be  very  much  pleased  with 
Ashton,  and  asked  him  if  he  knew  her  papa,  who 
used  to  be  her  Uncle  Henry,  but  now  he  had  mar- ' 
ried  her  Auntie  Amy,  he  said  that  she  must  always 
call  him  papa,  and  Auntie  Amy,  mamma. 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  but  surprises  for 
Ashton  ;    for,  while  he  was  making  inquiries  about 


AMBITION.  149 

this  wonderful  Uncle  Henry,  DeBar  entered,  and 
stood  as  one  petrified,  when  he  gazed  upon  the 
actors  in  that  little  scene.  It  was  in  that  little 
parlor  where  he  wooed  and  won  his  gentle  wife. 
It  was  in  that  parlor  lie  had  brought  his  young 
orphans,  and  now,  it  was  in  that  very  room  that  he 
met  his  earliest  and  dearest  friend. 

Maggie  aroused  him  by  clinging  to  him,  calling 
aloud,  ''Papa,  papa,  what  is  the  matter?"  When 
his-  senses  returned,  he  grasped  the  hand  of 
Ashton.  For,  in  a  little  while,  everything  was  ex- 
plained, and  after  a  few  minutes'  conversation,  he 
invited  him  to  call  with  his  uncle,  and  then  took 
Maoforie  and  left  the  house. 

Mrs.  Sutton  was  delighted  at  finding  her  sister's 
child,  and  Ashton  was  only  too  glad  to  find  an 
aunt  or  relative  in  this  world. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 


THE    DOUBLE    WEDDING. 

He  news  spread  like  wildfire  that  Ashton 
Moore  had  returned,  and  had  found  rela- 
tives ;  he  was  besieged  by  his  friends  for 
several  days. 

When  one  day,  to  his  delight,  Ames  brought  him 
a  letter  in  answer  to  his  earnest  request  that  Eliza 
should  be  married  at  the  same  time  her  brother 
was  he  snatched  the  letter  eagerly  from  the  hand 
of  his  intended  brother-in-Jaw,  broke  the  seal,  and 
cried  out :  "  Yes,  yes,  she  is  coming  ;  we  must 
meet  her  day  after  to-morrow.  Oh,  Ames,  I  am 
too  happy,"  and  he  clapped  Ames  upon  the 
shoulder,  his  face  beaming  with  the  happiness 
which  he  felt. 

At  the  time  appointed,  the  lover  and  brother 
were  at  the  pier,  waiting  for  the  steamer  to  round  ; 
they  scanned  every  face  upon  deck,  but  the  loved 
one    was    not   there.      No  sooner  had  the   vessel 


AMBITION.  I  5  I 

reached  the  pier,  than  they  sprang  eagerly  forward 
and  made  their  way  to  the  ladies'  cabin,  where 
they  found  the  loved  one  waiting  patiently  for 
them. 

Without  the  least  hesitancy,  Eliza  threw  hersell 
into  her  noble  brother's  arms,  much  to  the  chao-rin 
of  her  lover,  who  stood  by  awaiting  an  attack  from 
that  quarter  himself. 

When  the  crreetinor  between  brother  and  sister 

o  o 

was  over,  Eliza  placed  her  tiny  hand  in  the  out- 
stretched one  of  her  patient  lover,  saying,  "  Let 
me  congratulate  you  upon  your  safe  arrival  and 
good  looks,  Mr.  Moore.  Oh,  I  am  so  happy 
to  see  you  ;  I  never. in  my  whole  life  spent  such  a 
long  year." 

"  Ah  !  indeed;  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  Miss  Eliza," 
said  Ashton,  and  he  bent  gallantly  over  the  little 
hand  as  he  pressed  it,  and  looked  straight  into  her 
soft  blue  eyes.  "  Then,  I  have  been  missed  by 
you.  Ah !  do  not  blush  so  deeply,  I  am  only  too 
proud  to  think  that  I  have  been  missed,  and  wdsh 
all  those  prying  eyes  around  us  were  turned  upon 
something  else  just  now,  and  I  would  pluck  the 
rosebud  that  so  temptingly  is  placed  before  me  ;  but 
come,  Eliza,  let  us  hasten  away,"  and  he  drew^  her 
arm  within  his  own,  and  led  her  to  the  carriage, 
the  door  of  which  A^nes  held  open  for  them.     They 


1 52  AMBITIOX. 

were  driven  to  Ames's  hotel,  where  evervthlnor  was 
prepared  for  their  reception,  for  Ames  never  did 
anything  by  halves.  After  supper,  Ames  disclosed 
his  plans  to  Eliza." 

Annie  Penn  wished  to  be  married  at  the  little 
stone  chapel  where  all  of  her  family  were  married, 
and  Ames  had  proposed  to  Ashton  to  proceed 
forthwith  to  the  villao;-e  of  I\I . 

Eliza  was  delighted  at  the  plan,  for,  said  she  :  "I 
would  like  to  have  everything  conducted  quietly." 

"  But,"  said  Ashton,  ''  although  we  will  be  mar- 
ried in  a  retired  spot,  and  in  a  quiet  manner,  we 
will  none  the  less  enjoy  our  grand  reception  at 
home." 

The  next  day,  the  party  set  out  for  M ,  which 

they  reached  in  safety. 

When  the  boat  stopped  at  the  little  old-fashioned 
wharf,  there  stood  Mr.  Penn  and  his  brother  Will, 
who  eagerly  grasped  the  hand  of  our  hero,  and  led 
the  little  party  to  the  great  old-fashioned  family 
carriage  :  they  soon  reached  the  house,  to  the  de- 
light, of  all. 

Ames  immediately  sprang  from  the  carriage  at 
the  siofht  of  a  sweet  face  at  the  window,  which  said 
face  suddenly  disappeared,  and  as  the  gentle  Annie 
came  bounding  down  the  broad  stairs,  she  was 
caught  in  the  arms  of  her  lover,  who  smothered 


AMBITION.  1 53 

her  with  kisses.  And  so  the  party  found  them 
when, they. reached  the  porch. 

At  this  moment  the  dining-room  door  was  thrown 
open,  and  Mrs.  Penn  came  out  to  meet  them,  with 
a  crowd  of  Httle  ones  peeping  behind  her  volumi- 
nous skirts,  and  shouting  at  the  same  time  :  "  Papa  ! 
papa  !  " 

Will  took  each  in  its  turn  and  kissed  it,  then 
said  to  ,  the  astonished  party  :  "  You  need  not 
laucrh.  your  time  will  come  next,"  and  he  looked 
wondrously  happy. 

After  order  was  restored,  Annie  led  the  beauti- 
ful Eliza  to  her  chamber,  where  th'ey  remained  a 
lone  time  in  earnest  conversation,  until  the  tea-bell 
ranof.  Then  a  vision  of  loveliness  met  the  e^ze  of  the 
anxious  lovers,  as  they  swept  majestically  into  the 
room  where  they  were  waiting  to  take  them  into  tea. 

When  Eliza  seemed  entirely  rested  from  her 
journey,  three  days  after,  the  little  chapel  was  filled 
to  its  utmost  capacity,  the  little  organ  pealed  forth  a 
wedding  march  as  the  two  lovely  brides  and  the  hand- 
some bridegrooms  passed  up  the  aisle  upon  a  bed 
of  roses,  for  all  the  children  for  miles  around  had 
brought  flowers  to  strew  the  bride's  pathwa}'  with 
flowers,  hoping  that  they  would  be  happy,  and 
their  pathway  through  life  would  be  strewn  with 
roses.       After    the    minister    had    pronounced    his 


1 54  AMBITION. 

blessing  upon  them,  they  received  the  congratula- 
tions of  their  friends,  when  a  novel  sight  met  their 
gaze,  as  they  turned  to  leave  the  church.  Drawn 
up  on  either  side  of  the  doors,  were  the  village 
school  children,  each  with  a  basket  full  of  beau- 
tiful flowers.  As  the  two  brides  stood  upon  the 
threshold,  the  two  first  girls  walked  off  throw- 
ing flowers  in  the  way,  and  singing  sweetly,  then 
two  others,  and  so  on  until  they  arrived  at-  the  car- 
riages, where  they  again  separated  and  stood  in  a 
long  row  each  side  of  the  pathway,  so  the  bridal 
party  would  pass  through  the  sight  was  both 
novel  and  affecting. 

After  the  bridal  party  drove  away,  Mr.  William 
Penn  invited  all  the  children  up  to  the  great  house, 
where  they  had  the  pleasure  of  shaking  hands  with 
the  whole  party,  and  afterwards  were  served  with 
a  good  bridal  supper,  much  to  their  satisfaction  and 
surprise. 

"  Well,"  said  Ashton,  after  the  little  ones  had 
departed,  ''  I  am  so  glad  that  I  consented  to  come 
here  to  be  married,  for  that  little  tribute  is  worth 
more  than  all  the  false  glitter  of  society.''' 

Ames  stood  proudly  by  his  blushing  bride  and 
said  :  "  Now,  you  see  how  my  fair  bride  is  appre- 
ciated. I  am  truly  a  happy  man  ;  I  never  saw  so 
fair  a  wedding." 


AMBITION.  l55 

The  next  day,  trunks  were  sent  off,  and  soon  all 
took  leave  of  the  kind  host  and  family.  Ames 
promising  to  bring  his  wife  to  see  them  often, 
they  whirled  away  with  many  good  wishes  follow- 
ing them. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


THE    GRAND    RECEPTION. 

evening  after  their  arrival  at  home  they 
p  had  a  grand  reception.  Of  course,  every- 
body was .  in  readiness,  for  their  cards  had 
been  out  for  some  time,  for  all  knew  of  the  quiet 
wedding. 

The  grand  saloon  of  the  hotel  was  magnificently 
decorated.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  was  erected 
a  splendid  bridal  arch,  under  which  stood  the  bridal 
party,  receiving  their  friends. 

Mrs.  Skiff  wore  a  white  satin  dress,  with  an  im- 
mense train,  a  wreath  of  orange-blossoms  encircled 
her  brow  ;  her  long  veil  was  caught  up  with  a 
golden  comb  at  the  back  of  her  head,  and  hung  in 
folds  around  her  slender  figure.  Her  jewels  were 
diamonds. 

Mrs.  Moore  was  dressed  also  in  her  bridal  robes 
of  rich  white  silk,  with  lace  overskirt,  looped  up 


AMBITION.  l5y 

on  either  side  with  frosted  rosebuds.  Her  jewels 
were  a  magnificent  set  of  pearls,  a  present  from 
her  brother.  Instead  of  her  bridal  wreath,  she  wore 
a  bandeau  of  pearls,  from  which  fell  her  solid  lace 
veil  in  oraceful  folds  around  her. 

o 

The  guests  did  not  know  which  bride  to  admire 
the  most,  Annie,  with  her  midnight  beauty,  which 
the  sparkling  gems  set  off,  or  Eliza,  with  her  rip- 
pling light  hair  and  heavenly  blue  eyes.  The 
grooms  were  just  the  opposite — Ashton  was  dark, 
and  Ames  was  fair. 

After  the  reception  was  over  they  repaired  to 
an  opposite  saloon,  which  was  cleared  for  dancing, 
and  Ashton  offered  Mrs.  Skiff  his  arm,  and  Ames 
led  off  the  charming  Mrs.  Moore,  and  the  dance 
began  in  earnest.  Everything  was  gotten  up  in 
elegant  style,  and  every  one  seemed  to  enjoy  them- 
selves very  much.  The  supper-table  was  superb. 
Everybody  was  delighted.  Then,  to  the  surprise 
of  the  two  brides,  a  door  was  thrown  open,  which 
displayed  a  table  loaded  with  presents.  At  the 
head  of  the  table  was  a  magnificent  silver  service 
for  Mrs.  Jkiff,  at  the  foot  another  for,  Mrs.  Moore. 
Silver  ladles,  fruit-knives,  castors,  fish-knives,  silver 
salts,  fruit-baskets,  and  every  conceivable  thing  for 
the  table  was  displayed  to  view,  with  the  giver's 
name  attached. 


1 58  AMBITION. 

After  they  had  looked  at  the  presents  to  their 
hearts'  content,  they  repaired  to  the  saloon,  where 
they  enjoyed  themselves  till  near  morning,  when 
all  separated,  after  drinking  to  the  future  happiness 
of  the  bridal  party. 

So  ended  the  happy  bridal  reception  ;  but  I 
wonder  if  they  felt  any  happier  than  at  the  simple 
country  wedding! 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 


ROSA    LYNN    IN    A    NEW    ROLE. 

iX^r;^  E  must  leave  our  friends  In  their  happiness, 
f%^^  and  follow  the  fortunes  of  Rosa  Lynn. 
'^'-^'^^  When  Ames  left  her  at  VIcksburg,  she 
cared  not  which  way  she  drifted.  She  would  not 
enter  Into  her  old  life  again  as  circus-rlder.  Being 
of  a  romantic  turn  of  mind,  she  thought  she  would 
engage  In  some  menial  capacity ;  and  forthwith 
she  traced  her  way  to  the  great  city  of  New  York, 
where  she  sought  and  obtained  a  situation  as  lady's 
maid,  through  the  medium  of  the  Nezu  York 
Herald. 

The  lady  with  whom  she  engaged  herself 
had  just  returned  from  Europe.  She  was  an 
only  daughter,  and  an  heiress.  When  Rosa 
stood  before  her,  she  was  amazed  at  such 
beauty. 


l6o    ■  AMBITION. 

Julia  was  fain  to  think  that  if  Rosa  moved  in 
the  same  circle  as  herself,  she  would  have  a  worthy 
rival. 

Well,  Rosa  was  duly  installed.  One  morn-, 
ing,  after  dressing  Julia's  hair,  she  looked  around 
the  elegantly  furnished  chamber,  leaned  her 
hand  upon  the  back  of  a  chair,  and  soliloquized 
thus  : 

"Well,  this  is  a  delightful  change  for  one  who 
has  been  accustomed  to  command.  I  suppose  I 
must  obey,  for  a  time  at  least.  I  must  call  this 
piece  of  perfection  'my  lady,'  and  bow  and  cringe 
as  though  I  were  in  the  presence  of  royalty  itself. 
Ah  !  as  my  poor  old  ring-master  used  to  say, 
'  Child,  you  are  born,  but  not  buried.'  Who 
knows  but  one  of  these  days  I  will  be  some  great 
lady?  Yes,  yes;  I  feel  it  will — it  must  be  so. 
Oh  !  why  was  I  not  born  rich  instead  of  handsome," 
and  she  sighed,  and  stood  before  the  mirror  gazing 
intently  at  her  beautiful  face  and  charming  figure 
reflected  therein. 

At  this  moment,  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and 
Julia  stood  on  the  threshold  in  astonishment,  say- 
ing :  "  Well,  I  declare  you  must  think  yourself 
beautiful.  Here  I  have  been  waiting  and  calling 
you  for  half  an  hour,  and  you  seemed  deaf  to  every- 
thing   but  your    handsome  self.     Come,  my  girl  ! 


AMBITION.  l6l 

you  will  find  that  you  can  make  yourself  more  use- 
ful than  by  looking  at  yourself  all  day.  But  never 
mind  ;  you  are  forgiven  for  your  vanity  this  time 
for  I  think  myself  that  you  are  very  pretty.  Come 
now,  be  quick !  I  want  you  to  dress  my  hair,  for  I 
am  going  to  dine  with  Mrs.  Ashton  Moore,  the 
great  beauty  that  came  over  in  the  steamer  with 
me."  And,  as  Julia  seated  herself,  she  surveyed  the 
room,  and  said,  petulantly  :  '  Rosa,  I  do  think  that 
you  might  have  arranged  things  a  little  while  I  was 
out,  so  I  would  not  have  to  break  my  neck  over 
them  !  " 

"  I  believe,  madame,  that  you  engaged  me  to 
arrange  your  toilet,  not  to  be  chamber-maid,"  said 
Rosa,  with  asperity. 

Julia,  greatly  excited,  sprang  from  her  chair  and 
confronted  Rosa,  saying  :  "Don't  dare  to  call  me 
madame.  You  must  know  that  I  am  soon  to  be 
Sir  Edward  Clifton's  wife,  and  you  shall  call  me 
*  my  lad}\'  " 

"Just  as  I  thought !  "  said  Rosa,  with  contempt. 
"  Your  calling  yourself  a  lady  most  assuredly  does 
not  make  you  one  ;  but,  as  you  have  given  me  my 
orders,  I  will  proceed  with  your  toilet,  madame," 
and,  as  Rosa  combed  her  long  hair  out,  she  gave 
several  vigorous  pulls  which  made  poor  Julia  cry 
out : 


l62 


AMBITION. 


''  Why,  Rosa,  you  will  pull  all  the  hair  out  of  my 
head  !  My,  how  you  do  hurt !  "  and  she  put  her 
hands  to  her  head. 

"  Well,  there  is  plenty  more  at  the  hair-dresser's, 
you  can  easily  match  the  remnant,"  said  Rosa, 
spitefully,  completing  the  toilet. 

Julia  flaunted  about  the  room,  admired  herself 
in  the  glass,  and  left  word  for  Rosa  to  fix  up  things. 
When  left  alone,  Rosa  said  aloud,  as  the  door 
closed  upon  Julia  :  "  Well,  when  I  look  around  at 
all  this  fashion  and  display  in  one  so  utterly  void 
of  principle,  I  do  but  wonder  why  this  world's 
goods  are  so  unequally  divided.  Not  that  I  am 
envious  or  vain — oh,  not  at  all !  but  I  do  think 
that  all  this  wealth  would  set  better  on  me  than  it 
does  on  her.  What  am  I,  and  who  am  I,  that 
these  thoughts  will  continually  intrude  themselves 
upon  me  ?  " 

Scarcely  had  she  uttered  these  words  when  Mrs. 
Saunders,  the  mother  of  Julia,  entered  the  room, 
and  seeing  Rosa  approach  the  mirror,  she  called 
out  to  her:  "  As  usual,  Rosa,  at  the  glass  !  Well, 
you  must  really  think  yourself  beautiful.  Now,  if 
you  take  my  advice,  you  will  attend  to  your  busi- 
ness— that  is,  to  attend  to  your  mistress,  or  you 
will  find  yourself  dismissed  at  short  notice." 

Rosa,  who  was  not    in    the  least  disturbed  by 


AMBITION.  163 


this  threat,  said  :  ''  Well,  madame,  you  can  dismiss 
me  at  any  moment  that  you  will  pay  me." 

Mrs.  Saunders  said,  In  an  excited  voice  :  "  And 
there  Is  my  daughter,  who  will  marry  Sir  Edward 
Clifton,  I  want  you  to  understand,  as  well  as  any 
other  menial,  that  you  must  call  her  '  my  lady. 

''  Very  well,  madame  ;  when  she  becomes  '  my 
lady '  I'll  call  her  so  ;  but  I  do  not  now  Intend  to 
call  her  out  of  her  name.  Her  manners  never  will 
give  her  that  title,  only  the  position  of  Sir  Edward 
will  do  that,"  said  Rosa,  coolly. 

"  No  more  impudence,  miss  ;  but  do  as  I  tell 
you,"  and  with  these  words  the  Irate  lady  flaunted 
out  of  the  room. 

Rosa  fell  back  upon  the  lounge,  and  drew  forth 
a  picture  from  her  bosom,  shed  tears,  and  said 
aloud,  after  gazing  at  the  picture  for  some  time  : 
''  Never  mind  ;  I'll  be  a  great  lady  some  day, 
I  feel  it  here,"  placing  here  hand  upon  her 
heart. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

SIR    EDWARD    AT   THE    CLUB-ROOM. 

a  table  of  a  richly-furnished  club-room 
w  sat  four  gentlemen  playing  cards,  when 
one  of  them,  as  he  threw  down  a  card, 
called  out  :  "I  say,  Sir  Edward,  are  you  going  to 
the  grand  ball  ? — of  course,  you  must,  to  see  what 
the  Americans  can  do  in  that  line.  I'll  bet  you 
never  saw  such  an  array  of  beauty  in  your  life  as 
you  will  see  collected  there — " 

'*  Stop  there,  Raymond.  I  think,  when  you 
come  to  see  an  English  ball  and  English  beauties, 
then  you'll  give  in,"  said  the  handsome  English- 
man, Clarence  Hawthorne. 

''  Well,  gentlemen,  I  certainly  will  do  myself  the 
honor  to  attend  this  grand  ball  given  in  honor  of 
Miss  Saunders's  return  to  her  native  land,  and  will 
be  most  happy  to  meet  you  all  there." 

''  I  wonder  who  that   little  beauty  is  that  I  met 
in  the  hall  the   other  day  !    By  Jove,  such  eyes  I 
6 


AMBITION.  .      1 65 

never  saw!  She  must  be  some  poor  relation  whom 
they  are  afraid  to  be  let  seen,"  said  young  Bert 
Howard. 

"  Hush  !  Bert,  you  know  you  are .  treading  on 
dangerous  ground,"  said  Charles  Raymond. 

"Hold  on,  Charlie!  I  hope  I've  said  nothing 
offensive,  but  she  is,  w^ithout  exception,  the  prettiest 
little  thing  I  ever  saw,  and  about  the  merriest.  She 
came  along  the  hall  singing  as  sweetly  as  a  bird. 
Oh  !  such  a  voice!  It  was  enough  to  make  a  fellow 
think  that  he  was  listening  to  the  song  of  an  angel, 
but  this  is  not  playing  cards.  I  say,  what's 
trumps — Hearts  ?  " 

'^  By  the  pricking  of  my  thumb, 
Something  wicked  this  way  comes," 

said  Charles  Raymond,  laughing,  as  Wallace,  valet 
to  Sir  Edward,  entered  with  a  note,  which  he  gave 
to  Sir  Edward,  who  read  it,  then  folded  it  care- 
fully and  stood  up,  raised  his  glass,  and  said, 
smilingly  :    "  Gentlemen — 

''  Let's  drink  to  the  health  of  my  lady  fair, 
Whose  sparkling  black  eyes  and  raven  hair, 
In  truth,  this  poor  heart  of  mine  did  ensnare." 

They  all  drank  the  health  of  Sir  Edward's  lady 
love,  when  Clarence  Hawthorne  said;  "  Now,  gen- 
tlemen— 


1 66  AMBITION. 

"  Indeed  I  feel  it  our  duty 
To  drink  to  the  health  of  Bert's  little  beauty." 

1  After  they  drank,  Bert  Howard  arose  and  thanked 
them,  saying  :  "  Now,  gentlemen,  before  we  part, 
let  us  have  a  general  toast." 

They  at  once  arose  to  their  feet,  with  their  glasses 
lifted  high,  and  sang  : 

*' Here's  to  the  health  of  all  Eve's  fair  daughters, 
On  this  and  the  other  side  of  the  waters  ; 
With  very  few  faults,  and  a  great  many  charms, 
Will  be  glad  to  find  our  companions  in  arms." 

After  this  compliment  to  charming  woman,  the 
friends  separated  with  the  promise  of  meeting  at 
the  mask  ball. 

Bert  Howard  sprang  out  of  the.  door,  waving  an 
adieu  with  his  hat,  saying  :  "  Well,  gentlemen,  I'm 
off  to  dream  of  my  sweet  little  singing  bird — adieu  !  " 


CHAPTER     XXXVI. 


THE    MASK    BALL. 


HE   handsome  drawing-room   of  Mrs.  Sin- 


clair was  crowded.  The  scene  was  pictur- 
esque in  the  extreme — there  were  lords  and 
ladies,  knights  of  old,  shepherds,  minstrels,  flower- 
girls,  fortune-tellers  and  everything  else. 

Sir  Edward  Clifton  made  a  fine  Apollo,  Julia 
looked  splendidly  as  Aurora,  Clarence  Hawthorne 
as  a  gallant  knight,  the  lively  Bert  Howard  as  an 
old  minstrel,  but  who  is  this  little  gypsy  fortune- 
teller, who,  as  Apollo  approaches,  sings  out : 

"  Whoe'er  will  cross  my  hand  with  gold 
Will  have  his  fortune  truly  told." 

The  handsome  Apollo  placed  a  piece  of  gold  in 
the  open  palm,  and  she  took  his  hand,  traced  the 
lines  therein,  when  she  archly  told  him  that  he  had 
lately  crossed  the  seas  in  pursuit  of  some  object 
that  seemed  to  be  surrounded  with  mystery  ;  and 


1 68  AMBITION. 

it  would  only  be  solved  by  some  meddlesome  young 
person. 

"  But,  my  girl,  who  seems  to  be  connected  with 
this  mystery  ?  "  said  Apollo,  as  he  bent  his  lordly 
head  over  the  hand  which  she  still  retained. 

''  Oh  !  I  see  a  lonely  man  wandering  over  moun- 
tains and  hills  in  unrest.  Presently,  he  crosses  a 
great  ocean,  with  his  noble  heart  fired  with  love, 
and  in  pursuing  one  thing  finds  the  other,  which 
he  has  sought  for  many  years." 

"  Hold  !"  cried  Apollo.  "  It  is  enough."  And  he 
turned  away  to  seek  Aurora,  whom  he  found  listen- 
ing to  the  song  of  the  minstrel,  whose  sweet,  rich 
tones  filled  the  room  with  melody. 

Presently,  room  was  made  for  the  tambourine  girl, 
and  she  danced  with  her  tambourine,  to  the  delight 
of  every  one.  After  which  Apollo  and  Aurora  led 
off  the  dance,  which  lords  and  ladies,  knights,  and 
everybody  joined  in. 

The  minstrel  and  gypsy  fortune-teller  seemed  to 
be  inseparable.  It  was  he  who  danced  with  her; 
it  was  he  who  escorted  her  in  to  supper  ;  but  it  was 
not  he  who  escorted  her  home  ;  for,  like  Cinde- 
rella, as  the  clock  struck  twelve,  she  made  her 
escape,  and  the  poor  minstrel  was  left  to  pass  his 
time  in  conjecturing  what  manner  of  gypsy  she 
was. 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

A  STORMY  SCENE  AT  BREAKFAST. 

HPE  morning  after  the  ball,  as  Mrs.  Saunders 
and    her    daughter,    Julia,  were   seated  at 
breakfast,  that  lady  relieved  herself  of  her 
ill-humor  in  this  wise  : 

"  Well,  I  declare !  if  that  don't  beat  anything  I  ever 
heard  of    Just  to  think  of  that  budget  of  impudence    * 
going  off  to  a  ball  given  in  honor  of  my  daughter! 
My  daughter,  who  will  soon  be  a  great  lady !  " 

''  Yes  ;  and  to  think  that  he  should  be  so  capti- 
vated by  her  sweet  voice  (as  he  said),  that  she  had 
such  winning  ways  ;  and  he  squeezed  her  hand  at 
parting.  Oh,  ma !  was  ever  anything  so  shameful  ? " 
said  the  beautiful  Julia. 

At  this  moment  they  heard  Rosa  singing  in  the 
hall,  "  The  Poor  Gypsy  Maid." 

"  Now,  just  listen  to  that !  "  said  Mrs.  Saunders. 
Do  you  think  that  I  will  put  up  with  that  much 
longer,  Julia  ?  No,  not  if  you  will  have  to  do 
without    a   maid   altogether ;    really,    if    that   girl 


1 70  AMBITION. 

comes  In  here,  I'll  be  tempted  to  throw  a  cup  at 
her  head,  that  I  will !  " 

Just  as  she  ceased  speaking,  Rosa  came  in  with 
her  apron  full  of  flowers,  still  singing,  when  Mrs. 
Saunders  sprang  up  from  the  table,  and  shook  her 
by  the  shoulders,  which  caused  her  to  drop  the 
flowers,  while  she  cried  out  in  ancrer  :  "  You  little 
imp  of  Satan,  what  put  it  into  your  crazy  head  to 
run  off  to  the  ball  last  night,  and  mingle  wgh  your 
betters  ?  " 

Rosa  laughed,  "  Ha,  ha,  ha!  My  betters!  Now, 
madame,  if  you  will  just  raise  your  heavy  hand 
off  my  delicate  shoulder,  I  will  explain.  Well!  in 
the  first  place,  I  don't  acknowledge  any  one  as  my 
betters  ;  in  the  second,  I  wanted  to  see  in  a  ball- 
room, and  thought  I  would  be  safe  in  that  disguise, 
as  no  one  would  recognize  me  as  Miss  Julia's  maid  ; 
and  in  the  third  place,  I  wanted  to  see  how  my 
mistress  would  '  queen  it '  in  English  society. 
Now  I  am  fully  satisfied  on  all  points." 

Julia  looked  up  and  said,  softly  :  "  Mother,  do 
let  the  girl  alone.  Rosa,  how  did  I  look  last  night 
— don't  you  think  I  was  dressed  better  than  any 
one  there  ?  " 

"  I  dcrthink  you  and  your  Apollo  were  the  hand- 
somest couple  in  the  room,"  said  Rosa ;  ''  now, 
that's  the  truth." 


AMBITION.  171 

Mrs.  Saunders  drew  Rosa  before  her  as  she 
seated  herself,  holding  her  hand,  saying  mildly : 
"  Well,  Rosa,  if  I  forgive  you  this  time,  will  you 
ever  try  it  again  ?— but  I  know  you  will  soon  get 
into  some  other  scrape.  I  really  don't  know  why  I 
keep  you  about  me,  that's  a  fact !  " 

''  Ma,  I  think  Rosa  had  better  take  the  house- 
maid's place,  don't  you  ?  " 

''  Well,  my  dear,  I  really  think  so  myself.  Now, 
consider  your  position  changed,"  said  the  conde- 
scending madame. 

"All  right,  ladies,"  answered  Rosa  ;  "  if  you  are 
satisfied,  Vm  sure  I  will  be.  Anything  so  I  will 
remain  in  peace,"  so  saying,  Rosa  made  good  her 
escape,  before  they  should  reprimand  her  for  her 
impudence  again. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 


ROSA    AS    HOUSE-MAID. 

NE  morning  while  Rosa  was  dusting  the 
^^p  handsome  parlor,  she  stopped,  and  said 
aloud  :  "  Now,  I  rather  like  the  change  ; 
here  I  am  left  all  to  myself,  free  as  a  bird,  no  more 
to  be  frowned  at  or  scolded. — and  another  thing, 
now  I  can  get  a  peep  at  the  gentry,  and  will  be  a 
fine  lady.  Let  me  see  how  I  would  act  were  I. a 
lady,"  and  she  tried  all  the  chairs,  then  went  up  to 
the  grand  piano,  ran  her  fingers  nimbly  over  the 
keys,  but  started  back  as  though  she  were  terribly 
frightened,  saying  :  "  Oh,  my,  ain't  that  nice,  but 
it  will  bring  them  all  about  my  ears.  I'll  stop  at 
once,  because  I'll  have  to  hurry  up  now  ;  but  the 
next  time  I  come  down  I'll  have  to  put  on  one  of 
Julia's  dresses." 

While  Rosa  was  dusting  the  chairs  and  singing 
to  herself,  the  door  opened,  and  the  gay  young 
Bert  Howard  advanced  into  the  room,  offered  her 


AMBITION.  173 

his  hand,  as  with  a  smile  he  said,  "  Well,  my  pretty 
Miss,  how  are  you  this  fine  morning  ? '' 

Rosa  bowed  and  said  as  she  drew  herself  away  : 
"  I  am  not  Miss  Julia,  sir,  you  are  mistaken." 

*'  Well,  my  pretty  one,"  said  the  young  man,  "  I 
know  you  are  not  Miss  Julia,  but  cannot  we  make 
friends  ;  this  is,  indeed,  an  unexpected  pleasure.  I 
have  known  you  for  a  long  time,  and  had  almost 
given  up  the  idea  of  meeting  you,"  and  he  con- 
tinued, coaxingly,  "  Come,  sit  down  by  my  side,  and 
let  us  have  an  old-fashioned  talk." 

As  he  caught  Rosa  by  the  hand,  she  struggled 
and  freed  herself,  crying  out  :  ''  Oh,  I  cannot  stay  ; 
here  comes  Miss  Julia,"  and  she  made  a  courtesy, 
and  vanished  through  the  door. 

•  Bert  started  in  pursuit,  but  as  she  closed  the 
door  with  a  bang,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  You  dare  not 
follow,"  he  turned  back,  muttering  to  himself,  "That's 
just  my  luck,  here  I  have  been  chasing  a  butterfly 
three  months,  and  just  as  I  thought  I  had  caught 
it,  why  it  flies  off." 

The  door  opened  softly,  and  the  aggravating 
Rosa  peeped  archly  at  him,  and  said  :  "  Sir!  did 
you  tell  me  not  to  slam  itf  and  before  he  could 
catch  her  as  he  expected,  she  slammed  the  door 
and  was  gone. 

As  poor  Bert  turned  away  disappointed,  he  found 


1 74  AMBITION. 

himself  face  to  face  with  Julia  and  a  lady  friend,  who 
had  entered  by  the  side  door.  Julia  looked  ele- 
gant in  her  dark  green  riding  habit,  which  fitted 
her  exquisitely.  Her  cheeks  were  blooming  with 
the  healthful  exercise  ;  she  cordially  welcomed  Bert, 
who  was  a  favorite  with  everybody. 

As  he  bent  over  the  extended  hand,  she  ex- 
claimed :  ''  Why,  Mr.  Howard,  w^e  missed  you  so 
much'  In  our  morning  ride  ;  do  sit  down.  I  am  de- 
lighted to  see  you.  I  suppose  you  will  soon  join 
us  at  the  Springs.  You  know  that  we  start  In  a 
few  days." 

''  I  think  it  likely  that  I  shall,"  said  Bert,  con- 
fusedly. *'  I  shall  be  much  pleased  to  join  you 
there.  Will  you  take  your  little  singing  bird  along, 
Miss  Julia?" 

''  What  singing  bird,  Mr.  Howard  ?  " 

''  Why  the  little  girl  that  I  have  met  in  the  hall 
several  times,  and  no  matter  how  early  or  late,  she 
is  always  singing  merrily,"  said  Bert,  timidly. 

Julia  leaned  back  and  laughed  heartily,  when  she 
could  find  utterance  ;  she  told  him  that  was  only  a 
servant  girl.  First,  her  dressing-maid,  who,  for  her 
impudence,  was  promoted  to  be  mald-of-all-work. 

Bert  felt  his  cheeks  glow  with  indignation  at  this 
flippant  speech,  but  was  saved  from  further  em- 
barrassment by  the  entrance  of  a  young  lady  friend 


AMBITION.  175 

In  morning  costume,  whom  Julia  covered  with  kisses, 
as  she  exclaimed  :  "  Why,  Helen  dear,  why  did 
you  not  come  in  time  to  join  us  in  our  morning's 
ride?   I  was  so  much  grieved  at  your  absence." 

The  young  lady,  with  a  sweet  lisp,  which  I  think 
a  piece  of  affectation,  answered  :  "  Oh,  my  darling, 
I  have 'been  doing  much  better  than  that.  I  have 
been  shopping  with  mamma.  You  know  we  leave 
for  Long  Branch  the  latter  part  of  next  week, 
where  I  hope  you  will  all  join  us." 

Julia  turned  to  say  something  to  Bert,  but  that 
gentleman  very  unceremoniously  took  his  leave 
when  she  was  showering   Helen  with  kisses. 

When  she  found  that  he  had  truly  taken  flight, 
she  exclaimed  :  "  It  is  nothing  more  than  I  expected  ; 
I  suppose  he  has  gone  In  pursuit  of  his  singing 
bird." 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 


valet, 


SIR    EDWARD  S     RESOLUTION. 

N  a  richly-furnished  private  parlor  in  the 
St.  Nicholas  Hotel,  were  two  gentlemen, 
Sir  Edward  Clifton,  and  his  handsome 
Wallace,  who  was  busy  writing  a  letter. 
Sir  Edward  raised  himself  from  his  reclining  posi- 
tion, shook  the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  and  said, 
softly  :  "  Wallace !  I  am  not  satisfied  with  things 
as  they  are  going  on.  You  are  in  every  sense  a 
gentleman  ;  as  highly  bred  as  myself;  and  yet  you 
are  willing  to  bend  your  proud  neck,  and  play  valet 
to  me  in  this  country.  Now,  my  boy,  no  one  here 
knows  anything  about  the  fatal  duel.  I  think  it  Is 
time  you  should  resume  your  name  and  station,  if 
not  your  title." 

Wallace  raised  his  head,  and  answered  :  "  Not 
yet,  Edward.  I  want  to  win  and  wed  that  little 
singing  bird  (as  Bert  calls  her)  In  my  present  sta- 
tion, and  I'll  be  the  happiest  of  men." 


AMBITIOX.  177 

"  You  forget  mCv  Wallace  !  Don't  you  know  that 
I  am  glad  the  ladies  are  all  gone  to  the  sea-shore  ? 
I'll  just  step  over  some  day  and  see  this  little  sing- 
ing bird  myself.     How  old  do  you  think  she  is  ?  " 

They  were  here  interrupted  by  Clarence  Haw- 
thorne, who  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and  asked, 
''  Well,  gentlemen,  what's  the  news  ?  " 

"  Nothing  new,  except  the  ladies  have  left  for 
the  sea- shore,"  said  Sir  Edward.  "  I  really  don't 
know  how  we  shall  employ  our  time.  Now,  I 
have  a  strong  desire  to  see  Bert's  little  prodigy, 
and  some  day  we  must  take  a  stroll  in  Central 
Park.  Oh !  that  will  be  the  most  appropriate 
place  to  tell  you  the  sad  history  of  my  past  life, 
and  the  strange  oath  of  mine  when  a  mere  boy. 
Somehow  or  other  I  have  a  strong  presentiment 
that  this  very  girl  has  something  to  do  with  my 
oath,  Wallace." 

*'  You  may  just  as  well  tell  it  now,  and  we  will 
help  you  out  with  it,"  said  Clarence. 

''  No  ;  I  will  wait  until  we  reach  some  romantic 
nook  in  the  park,  and  it  will  make  me  more  eager 
to  fulfill  that  oath.  Suppose  we  start  now  ;  or, 
shall  we  step  over  to  the  house,  pretending  we  did 
not  know  that  the  ladies  were  out  of  town  ?  Then 
we  can  have  some  music,  for  Charles  says  she  can 
play,  and  sing  divinely." 
8* 


178  AMBITION. 

''  There's  romance  In  that,"  said  Clarence,  as  he 
Hghted  a  cigar.  "  Who  ever  heard  of  a  genuine 
domestic  having  such  refinement  and  such  musical 
abilities  ?  I'll  bet  my  life  she  is  some  girl  who  has 
perhaps  followed  some  lover,  and  he  has  tired  of 
her  and  cast  her  off,  and  she  is  too  proud  to  go 
home,  so  seeks  an  honest  living  as  a  domestic." 

*'  Well,  even  if  that  is  the  case,  I  admire  her 
spirit,"  said  Wallace. 

So  saying,  the  three  friends  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

INTERVIEW    BETWEEN    SIR    EDWARD    AND    ROSA. 

the  gentlemen  reached  the  mansion 
of  Mrs.  Saunders,  Sir  Edward  requested 
his  companions  be  shown  into  the 
library,  while  he  had  a  private  interview  with  Miss 
Rosa.  The  porter,  who  had  looked  upon  him  for 
a  long  time  as  one  of  the  family,  acceded  to  his 
request  immediately,  and  he  proceeded  to  the 
drawing-room,  from  whence  came  ravishing  strains 
of  music.  He  opened  the  door  softly,  and  stood 
enraptured  upon  the  threshold. 

As  Rosa  finished  the  piece,  she  raised  her  eyes 
for  the  first  time,  and  met  those  of  Sir  Edward 
fixed  intently  upon  her.  She  immediately  arose  and 
tried  to  escape,  but  he  seemed  determined  not  to 
be  foiled  in  that  way.  He  sprang  forward  and 
caught  her  hand.  She  begged  to  be  released,  say- 
ing, she  meant  no  harm  ;  that  she  was  not  Miss  Julia. 


i8o 


a:^iritiox. 


Very  beautiful  did  she  look  as  she  stood  blushine 
and  paling  before  the  great  nobleman. 

As  she  spoke  in  a  pleading  voice,  Sir  Edward 
held  her  hand  the  tighter,  and  cried  out  in  a  voice 
of  agony,  "  Girl !  who  and  what  are  )'ou,  and  why 
did  you  play  that  old  grand  familiar  march,  every 
sound  of  which  touched  a  respondent  chord  in  my 
heart?  When  last  I  heard  that  erand  march  it 
was  played  by  one  as  fair  as  yourself,  but  whose 
young  life,  alas !  was  soon  clouded  over  with 
misery !  But  tell  me,  my  good  girl,  something  of 
yourself." 

'*  Oh,  sir!"  said  Rosa,  weeping  bitterly,  ''I  know 
nothing  at  all  of  my  past  history  up  to  the  time 
I  was  put  with  the  great  circus  to  earn  my  own 
living." 

Sir  Edward  was  shocked  to  hear  her  speak  of 
the  circus,  but  said  kindly  :  "  You  certainly  could 
not  have  made  yourself  proficient  in  music  while  in 
the  circus,  could  you,  child?" 

'•'  Oh,  no,  sir.  When  I  was  riding  in  the  circus, 
there  came  a  boy  one  day  and  joined  the  troupe  ; 
that  boy  had  sisters  at  home,  so  he  took  me  as  his 
litde  sister  abroad,  and,  oh,  I  loved  him  so  much! 
Well,  he  left  the  circus  and  took  me  to  a  great  city, 
and  educated  me,  and  was  glad  when  I  left  the 
circus.     But,  one  day  I  quarreled  with  him,  and  so 


AMBITIOX.  l8l 

we  parted,  and  I  thought  I  would  come  where  no 
one  knew  me  and  earn  my  own  Hving." 

Sir  Edward  coaxed  her  to  play  once  more,  and 
then  he  would  not  trespass  upon  her  time  any 
longer,  he  said. 

Rosa  played  several  brilliant  pieces,* much  to  the 
surprise  of  Sir  Edward,  after  which  he  pressed  her 
hand,  thanking  her  kindly,  and  took  his  leave. 

When  she  had  closed  the  door  upon  that  noble 
form,  Rosa  threw  herself  upon  the  sofa,  saying  : 
''  Oh,  why  did  he  gaze  into  my  eyes  so  long,  what 
am  I  to  him  ?  Why  has  he  so  much  power  over  me? 
I'm  nothing  but  a  poor  circus-rider,  and  he  is  a 
grand  gentleman.  Ah  !  who  knows,  but  some  of 
these  fine  days,  I  will  be  a  great  lady?  Oh,  my! 
but  I  will  cut  a  dash  when  I  am  a  great  lady.  I 
know  I  am  as  pretty  as  a  picture,"  and  as  usual, 
Rosa's  vanity  carried  her  before  the  mirror,  when, 
to  her  great  surprise,  the  door  was  thrown  open, 
and,  without  ceremony,  Bert  Howard  walked  in. 

He  approached  her  saying  :  "  Well,  what  is  my 
singing  bird  doing  with  herself  nowadays  ?  Come, 
Rosa,  I  have  only  a  few  moments  to  stay,  and  a 
great  deal  to  tell  you  in  that  time." 

But  Rosa  said  archly  :  ''  Oh  !  you're  talking  in 
your  sleep,"  and,  as  she  turned  away,  she  would 
have   escaped,  had   not  he  caught   her  around  her 


1 82  AMBITION. 

waist  and  seated  her  upon  a  sofa,  where  he  told  her 
the  something,  too  sweet  for  our  ears  at  present. 

When  he  arose  to  go,  he  said  :  "  Well,  faint  heart 
never  did  win  fair  lady,"  and,  with  a  wave  and  kiss 
of  the  hand,  he  was  gone  before  Rosa  could  re- 
monstrate. 


CHAPTER    XLI. 


SIR    EDWARD    RELATES    HIS    PROMISED    STORY. 

SJ  a  shady  and  romantic  nook  In  the  grand 
m/f^  Central  Park  sat  Sir  Edward  and  his  three 
^^^     friends  ;   when  he  spoke  as  follows  : 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  I  think  this  is  the  proper  time 
and  place  to  relate  what  I  promised,  about  twenty 
years  ago,  I  had  a  loved  sister,  whom  we  all 
idolized,  just  budding  into  lovely  womanhood. 
She,  of  course,  had  many  admirers,  among  whom 
was  a  young  Spaniard,  a  perfect  Apollo. 

"  Well,  he  was  her  shadow,  following  her  every- 
where. At  last  he  made  bold  to  ask  her  hand  in 
honorable  marriage,  but  our  father  sternly  repulsed 
and  forbade  him  the  house,  for  he  had  given  her 
hand  in  marrlaore  to  an  old  lord. 

''  Antonio's  wrath  burst  forth,  and  he  took  an  oath 
that  he  would  have  her,  and  well  did  he  keep  his 
word  ;  they  were  both  young,  and  both  loved  each 
other  ardently. 


184  AMBITION. 

%  "  Finally  my  sister  was  married  with  great  pomp 
and  ceremony  to  Lord  Estre,  and  went  to  live  in 
the  old  ancestral  hall  of  the  Estres.  Everything 
went  off  quietly.  My  sister  was  often  seen  to  go 
out  into  the  garden  at  nio^ht,  and  meet  a  man  who 
always  had  a  cloak  wrapped  around  him. 

*'  Well,  time  wore  on,  and  a  beautiful  child  was 
born  to  them.  Still  the  lovers,  for  such  they  were, 
met  in  the  garden.  The  servants  all  loved  their 
mistress,  and  kept  her  secret. 

''  One  night  I  crept  into  the  garden,  as  my  sister 
flew  to  his  embrace.  In  his  eaoferness  to  fold  her 
in  his  arms,  the  cloak  fell  from  his  shoulders,  and  I 
recognized  Antonio,  my  sister's  former  lover.  The 
next  thing  that  happened  was,  after  an  absence  of 
several  days,  the  old  lord  came  home  to  find  his 
wife  and  child  gone. 

"  When  it  became  known,  I  knew  directly  that 
it  was  Antonio  with  whom  she  had  fled,  and,  boy 
as  I  was,  I  made  a  vow  to  follow  them  all  over  the 
world.  Now  I  have  been  in  every  clime,  in  every 
country  on  the  globe. 

"  I  found  them  in  Italy,  where  poor  Antonio 
died  in  my  arms,  entirely  forgiven  by  me.  I  never 
saw  such  devotion  shown  to  a  wife  as  he  showed 
to  my  sister.  After  the  funeral  I  tried  to  persuade 
her  to  return  home  with  me.     She  said  that  if  I 


AMBITION.  150 


would  Q-Q  home  and  see  if  father  would  formve 
and  receive  her  she  would  go  with  me  ;  but  that 
night  she  escaped  from  the  house,  and  I  have 
never  seen  her  since. 

"  When  poor  Antonio  was  gasping  his  last  in 
mv  arms,  he  becrcred  me  to  take  care  of  his  wife 
and  his  little  pearl,  and  see  that  no  harm  came  to 
them.  I  promised  solemnly,  with  the  tears  chasing 
each  other  down  my  cheeks.  He  told  me  also, 
before  he  died,  that  they  were  married  immedi- 
ately upon  their  arrival  in  Italy,  •  for,'  said  he,  '  she 
was  my  angel- wife  in  heaven,  and  I  was  determined 
no  man  should  separate  us  on  earth.' 

"  Although  I  never  saw  my  sister  since  that 
night,  I  have  heard  her  voice,  and  have  seen  her, 
as  she  was  then,  in  the  person  of  '  Bert's  singing 
bird.'  Yes,  gentlemen,''  said  he,  rising,  ''  I  believe 
that  girl  is  my  lost  pearl.  I  feel  like  this  girl  has 
a  claim  upon  me.  If  it  is  so,  my  cup  of  happiness 
is  full." 

"  Have  you  any  particular  mark  by  which  you 
could  identify  her?"  inquired  Clarence  Hawthorne. 

"  I  often  noticed,  while  an  infant,  a  cluster  of 
grapes  or  berries  upon  her  left  shoulder,"  said  Sir 
Edward. 

Bert  Howard  sprang  to  his  feet  and  cried  ex- 
citedly, waving  his  hat,  ''I'll  bet  my  hat  that  my 


1 86  AMBITION. 

little  singing  bird  is  no  low-born  maid-of-all- 
work!" 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  her  play  the  piano,  Bert?" 
asked  Sir  Edward. 

"  No !  I  did  not  know  that  she  could  play  upon 
the  piano  ;  but  this  I  do  know,  that  she  has  played 
the  deuce  with  my  heart."  And  the  gay- hearted 
fellow  gave  a  long  sigh  as  he  placed  his  hand  over 
his  heart. 

"  Hush,  Bert,"  said  Charles  Raymond,  ''  there 
are  ladies  coming  this  way,"  as  voices  were  heard 
near  them,  and  while  he  was  still  speaking,  Rosa, 
with  two  other  girls,  stood  face  to  face  with  the 
gentlemen. 

The  girls  turned  to  escape,  but  Wallace  and 
Bert  started  in  pursuit,  and  brought  back  Rosa  in 
triumph,  who  pleaded  earnestly,  "  Do  let  me  go, 
gentlemen  ;  we  were  just  hurrying  home  " — and 
the  merry  girl  took  a  medallion  from  her  bosom 
and  made  out  that  she  had. a  watch,  and  said,  "  Oh  ! 
dear,  it  is  past  our  time,"  but  unfortunately,  just  as 
she  was  going  to  replace  it,  it  fell  to  the  ground. 
Wallace  immediately  picked  it  up,  saying,  playfully, 
''  Why,  bless  me,  this  is  a  handsome  time-piece!" 

Rosa  held  out  her  hand  and  begged  him  to  re- 
turn the  locket  to  her,  for  it  was  all  on  earth  she 
had  to  love. 


AMBITION.  187 

Sir  Edward  approached  Rosa,  and  said  :  "  Will 
you  allow  me  to  look  at  your  precious  time-piece?" 

Wallace  gave  it  into  his  hands,  when  he  opened 
the  case,  and,  starting  back,  grew  pale  as  death. 
When  he  could  orain  utterance,  he  cried  out  :  "  Oh, 
my  dear  girl,  where  did  you  get  this  trinket  ?  look, 
Wallace,  it  is  the  face  of  our  lone  lost  Maud." 
Wallace  opened  the  other  side,  and  Sir  Edward  ex- 
claimed :   "  And  this  is  the  unfortunate  Antonio." 

Turning  to  the  affrighted  Rosa,  who  was  trem- 
bling lest  they  should  keep  her  precious  locket,  Sir 
Edward  said  with  great  agitation  :  "  Speak,  girl, 
who  orave  vou  this  locket  ?  " 

"  I  have  worn  that  locket  ever  since  I  can  remem- 
ber," said  the  affrighted  girl.  ''  Mr.  Raymond  said 
that  I  must  never  part  with  it,  that  some  day  I 
would  be  a  fine  lady,  and  that  I  must  try  and  be  as 
good  as  that  lady  in  the  locket,  for  I  was  just  as 
beautiful.  I  ne\'er  knew  the  beautiful  lady,  but  I 
have  always  loved  her." 

"  Sir  Edward,"  said  Charles  Raymond,  "  I  would 
advise  you  to  investigate  this  matter  at  once,  and 
settle  this  litde  one  in  some  way.  It  is  evident  that 
she  does  not  belong  to  the  common  class  of  work- 
ing  girls." 

"  Yes,  that's  just  what  Miss  Julia  is  all  the  time 
saying,"  said  the  maid  that  was  with  Rosa,  "  that  she 


1 88  AMBITION. 

thinks  herself  too  much  of  a  lady,  and  she  is  impu- 
dent. That's  just  what  we  had  to  change  places  for. 
Now,  gentlemen,  if  you  will  only  allow  us  to  go 
home,  it  is  past  our  time,  and  Rosa  is  quite  over- 
come." 

"  Certainly  we  will  permit  you  to  go,  my  good 
girl,  but  Rosa  must  go  with  me  ;  she  is  mine,  with- 
out doubt.  I  will  summon  the  family  without  de- 
lay." So  saying,  they  made  preparations  for  their 
departure.  Sir  Edward  drew  Rosa's  hand  within 
his  arm,  while  Wallace  called  the  coachmen,  and 
when  all  were  ready,  the  two  carriages  rolled  away. 
Soon  they  alighted  in  front  of  the  hotel ;  the  maid 
was  put  down  at  her  own  door,  dreadfully  per- 
plexed at  the  turn  of  affairs. 


CHAPTER    XLII. 

THE    FAMILY   AT    HOM-\ 

HEN  Mrs.  Saunders  was  summoned  home, 
W^  she  could  not  tell  what  was  the  cause,  but 
as  Sir  Edward  sent  the  summons,  she  dared 
not  question,  but  immediately  made  preparations 
for  a  speedy  departure.  People  wondered  at  the 
most  fashionable  set  leaving  so  soon. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  surmises,  the  Saunders 
family  arrived  safely  at  home.  When  Mrs.  Saun- 
ders found  that  Rosa  had  gone  away,  she  ac- 
costed Julia  at  the  breakfast  table  with  "Julia,  dear, 
I  cannot  see  for  the  life  of  me,  where  that  little  un- 
grateful wretch  has  taken  herself  off  to,  I  cannot 
get  one  word  out  of  May,  only  that  she  met  some 
gentlemen  at  the  park,  and  that  Rosa  went  in  a 
carriage  with  them.  Now,  that  looks  strange,  you 
know,  to  say  the  least." 

"  Pshaw  !  Mother,  cannot  you  see  through  that! 


IQO  AMBITIOX. 

I'm  sure  the  thing  Is  plain  enough.  Rosa  is  a 
pretty  girl  and  smart  enough  too,  and  she  has  been 
meeting  a  lover,  who,  of  course,  has  taken  advan- 
tage of  our  absence,  to  persuade  the  vain  girl  to 
elope.  Now,  there  is  spice  and  romance  in  it  after 
all."  and  Julia  leaned  back  and  laughed  heartily. 

The  servant  at  this  moment  announced  Mr. 
Howard. 

Now,  as  Bert  was  an  old  and  Intimate  friend 
of  the  family,  Mrs.  Saunders  invited  him  In  the 
breakfast  room.  Bert  entered,  his  face  beam- 
ing with  good  humor.  He  gave  each  lady  a  hand  to 
shake,  as  he,  smiling,  inquired  after  their  health. 
Then  he  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  gave  it  to 
Julia,  and  turned  to  Mrs.  Saunders,  with  Sir 
Edward's  compliments  to  her,  and  said  he  asked 
permission  to  bring  a  friend  of  his  in  the  evening, 
when  he  would  be  most  happy  to  pay  his  respects 
to  the  ladles.  They  granted  this  seemingly  simple 
request,  and  Bert's  mission  being  fulfilled,  he  took 
his  departure,  leaving  the  ladies  to  surmise  who 
could  be  the  mysterious  visitor. 

When  evening  came,  Julia  was  resplendent 
in  diamonds,  and  with  impatience  awaited  the 
coming  of  Sir  Edward.  Shortly  after  eight  o'clock 
the  party  were  announced.  Sir  Edward  entered 
the  drawing-room  with  Rosa  leaning  upon  his  arm. 


AMBITIOX.  191 

She  wore  a  lavender-colored  silk,  with  train,  and 
elegant  diamonds  in  her  raven  hair.  As  Julia 
stood  by  her  mother  to  receive  the  friend  of  her 
intended  husband,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  encounter 
the  flashing  orbs  of  Rosa.  Julia  gave  a  scream, 
and  would  have  fallen  had  not  the  noble-hearted 
Bert  Howard  sprung  forward  and  supported  her. 

Rosa  said :  "  I  did  not  mean  to  frighten  you  so, 
Julia,  dear.  Come,  uncle  is  ready  to  clasp  you  to 
his  great  heart.  Speak  to  me,  Julia."  But  Julia  was 
speechless  with  surprise.  When  she  did  recover 
the  first  words  which  greeted  Sir  Edward  were — 
"  And  this  was  he  whom  she  eloped  with." 

Sir  Edward  left  Rosa  in  the  hands  of  Bert,  and, 
taking  the  cold  hand  of  Julia,  said,  gently :  ''  Why, 
my  love,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Did  you  ever  doubt  my 
love  for  you  ?  Have  I  not  proved  my  sincerity  ? 
Will  you  not  shortly  be  my  honored  wife  ?  And 
do  you  begrudge  the  morsel  of  affection  that  I 
have  given  to  my  own  sister's  child?"  He  rested 
the  proud  head  of  Julia  upon  his  broad  bosom,  and 
gave  a  full  explanation,  and  poor  Julia  was  overcome 
and  shed  penitential  tears  at  the  recital  of  the  hard- 
ships of  Rosa.  When  Sir  Edward  had  finished, 
he  kissed  her  marble  brow,  and  said,  gently  :  ''  Will 
my  darling  receive  my  dear  sister's  child  as  her 
sister  and  equal  ? " 
G* 


192  AMBITION. 

Julia  arose  and  clasped  Rosa  to  her  heart  and 
said:  ''Rosa!  Rosa!  forgive,  forgive  me!  and 
love  me  just  a  little.  I  have  no  sister ;  come,  come, 
to  my  heart!"  And  the  two  girls  wept  in  each 
other's  arms. 

When  Rosa  withdrew  from  Julia's  embrace,  she 
raised  her  streaming  eyes  to  Heaven,  and  fell  upon 
her  knees,  saying,  with  fervor  :  "  Oh,  my  heavenly 
Father,  I  thank  thee  for  keeping  me  safe  through 
all  my  trials  to  this  hour  of  infinite  love,  and  mercy 
towards  me." 

Bert  and  her  uncle  raised  her  gently  and  placed 
her  upon  a  chair,  when  Mrs.  Saunders  said,  in  a 
choked  voice  :  "  Rosa,  come  to  my  heart,  hence- 
forth you  shall  be  as  a  daughter,"  and  the  old  lady 
nearly  suffocated  Rosa  in  her  endeavors  to  make 
peace. H 

Bert  came  to  the  rescue,  and  offering  his  arm 
to  Rosa,  which  she  was  glad  to  accept,  led  her  to 
the  open  window,  where  she  soon  recovered  her 
strength  and  spirits. 

Sir  Edward  was  happy  indeed,  for,  said  he,  gal- 
lantly :  "  Have  I  not  found  my  lost  pearl,  and  do  I 
not  possess  one  of  America's  brightest  gems  ?  Now, 
Julia,  set  the  day  for  our  nuptials,  for  I  must 
soon  depart  for  the  land  of  my  birth,  as  I  wish  to 
show  my  pearl  the  spot  where  she  was  born." 


AMBITION.  193 

At  this  moment  Bert  led  the  blushing  Rosa  be- 
fore her  uncle,  and  in  the  most  gallant  style  im- 
aginable, knelt  before  him,  and  asked  the  hand  of 
his  fair  niece,  saying,  archly  :  ''  Had  I  not  pursued 
the  damsel,  you  ne'er  ^vould  have  caught  her." 

Sir  Edward  said  :  "  My  gallant  knight,  has  your 
wooing  been  in  the  most  approved  style  ?  " 

Bert  said,  laughing  :  ''  If  not  in  the  most  approved 
style,  I  can  most  assuredly  say,  it  has  been  done  in 
the  most  romantic  style,  and  we  are  willing  to  finish 
it  in  the  same  style  by  eloping." 

''  Nay,  nay,  my  lord,  we'll  have  no  elopement  in 
the  case.  If  Rosa  (or  Maud,  as  we  shall  henceforth 
call  her)  is  inclined  to  favor  your  suit,  I  will  have 
no  objection .  to  not  only  your  sailing  in  the  same 
vessel  with  us  to  Europe,  but  you  may  sail  your 
bark  upon  the  sea  of  matrimony  at  the  same  time 
we  launch  ours  out." 

The  happy  young  couple  were  satisfied,  and  the 
day  was  set  for  a  grand  double  wedding.-  All  w^ere 
delighted  but  poor  Wallace,  who  had  tried  to  win 
the  lady's  hand  for  himself.  All  knew  that  he  had 
been  only  playing  valet  to  his  cousin.  Sir  Edward, 
and  he  had  now  consented  to  accompany  the  bridal 
party  to  Europe. 


CHAPTER   XLIIL 


THE    DOUBLE    WEDDING. 


I^^REAT  preparations  were  made  for  two  we 
^x^      dinp-s.     The  lovers  spent  their  time  ridii 


1 


wed- 
dings. The  lovers  spent  their  time  riding 
or  sailing,  but  did  not  attempt  to  go  to  the 
Springs  again.  Invitations  were  sent  to  all  the 
watering  places,  to  the  surprise  of  everybody,  and 
all  the  fashionable  world  was  collected  in  New 
York  by  the  tenth  of  September.  Trinity  Church 
was  crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity.  The  grand 
organ  swelled  out  a  joyous,  grand  wedding- march, 
as  the  lovely  brides  approached  the  altar.  Both 
wore  white  satin  robes,  with  immense  trains,  and 
lace  overskirts,  with  veils  and  orange  wreaths. 
Neither  wore  jewelry  of  any  kind.  There  was  a 
goodly  sprinkling  of  the  diplomatic  corps,  and  the 
gay  uniforms  of  the  army  and  navy,  for  Bert 
Howard  was  a  gallant  officer  In*  the  army,  and 
Charles    Raymond    was    an    officer    in    the.  navy. 


AMBITION.  195 

Bert  really  looked  elegant  in  his  full  uniform,  and 
marched  proudly  from  the  altar  with  his  lovely 
bride  upon  his  arm.  The  street  before  the  door 
was  crowded.  The  ushers  found  it  difficult  to 
make  a  passage-way  to  the  carriages. 

They  soon  arrived  at  the  mansion  of  Mrs.  Saun- 
ders, where  the  two  brides  stood  proudly  by  their 
husbands  and  received  their  guests  with  grace  and 
ease. 

But  why  does  Maud  turn  pale  and  tremble,  as  a 
lady  and  gentleman  stand  before  her  ?  The  gen- 
tleman takes  her  trembling  hand,  while  their  eyes 
meet,  and  she  faintly  murmurs  :  ''  Ames!"  while  he 
answers  as  gently:  "Rosa!"  He  presents  his 
lovely  wife,  when  the  color  comes  back  to  her  face, 
and  she  is  put  at  ease  by  the  sweet  voice  of  Annie 
Skiff  wishing  her  joy,  both  upon  her  marriage  and 
her  voyage. 

As  the  time  was  pressing,  and  all  wanted  to  wish 
them  joy,  Ames  and  his  wife  passed  on,  leaving 
Bert  wondering  why  his  wife's  cheek  paled  at  the 
approach  of  Ames  Skiff. 

When  everybody  were  enjoying  cake  and  wine, 
the  two  brides  left  Mrs.  Saunders  to  entertain,  and 
repaired  to  their  rooms  and  donned  their  travehng 
costumes,  and  as  they  descended  the  stairs  they  were 
iret  by  their  happy  husbands,  who  had  done  like- 


196  AMBITION. 

wise,  and  they  soon  bade  adieu  to  their  friends. 
As  the  carriages  rolled  away,  old  shoes,  and  other 
things,  for  good  luck,  were  thrown  after  them. 

Some  few  intimate  friends  accompanied  them  to 
the  vessel.  Among  them  was  Ames,  who  was  the 
last  to  bid  Rosa  good-bye.  As  the  noble  vessel 
rode  out  of  harbor,  the  bridal  party  waved  their 
adieus  from  the  upper  deck,  and  they  were  soon 
out  on  the  ocean  wave. 


CHAPTER   XLIV 

THE    CONFLAGRATION. 


i^^^HEN  the  party  returned  from  the  vessel,  and 
was   nearing  the  house,  their   ears  were 


^^■'"  assailed  by  the  cry  of  fire.  Without  wait- 
ing for  the  carriage  to  stop,  Ames,  who  had  left  his 
wife  at  the  house,  burst  open  the  door  and  leaped 
upon  the  pavement,  and,  with  a  few  bounds,  was 
at  the  door  of  the  house,  which  he  found  to  be  on 
fire.  When  he  left,  a  short  time  before,  all  was  joy- 
ous and  happy,  and  now  his  ears  were  assailed  with 
the  shrieks  of  fainting  women,  and  the  hoarse 
shouts  of  the  firemen  as  they  called  to  their  com- 
rades for  water. 

The  crowd  was  so  dense  that  Ames  and  his  com- 
panions could  scarcely  elbow  their  way  through,  but 
owing  to  his  great  anxiety  for  his  helpless  wife,  he 
made  a  super-human  effort,  and  at  last  reached  her 
side  as  she  sat  moaning  piteously  upon  a  sofa,  sur- 
rounded by  several  shrieking,  frantic  women. 


198  AMBITION. 

No  one  could  tell  how  the  fire  originated,  but 
certain  it  was  that  it  had  made  great  headway  be- 
fore it  was  discovered,  when  those  who  were  in 
the  saloon,  dancing,  were  nearly  suffocated  with  the 
dense  smoke  which  enveloped  them. 

As  Ames  rushed  through  the  crowd  to  where 
his  wife  sat  with  her  head  buried  in  her  hands,  he 
caught  the  words  :  ''  Oh,  why  did  my  husband 
leave  me?  "  He  knelt  beside  her,  drew  her  hands 
from  her  face,  and  said,  hurriedly  :  ''  Annie,  darling, 
your  husband  stands  before  3^ou  to  rescue  you,  or 
perish  with  you.  Come,  be  of  good  cheer,  all  is 
not  lost  yet,"  and  he  took  the  gentle  being,  who 
clung  to  him  as  the  ivy  to  the  oak,  and  led  her  to 
the  door,  but  was  forced  to  draw  back  as  a  stream 
of  water  came  pouring  in  from  the  hose.  When 
this  was  over  he  placed  his  arm  around  her  slender 
waist,  and  dragged  her  half  fainting  out  the  door. 
Seeing  the  danger  of  others,  she  begged  him  to 
leave  her  out  in  the  fresh  air,  and  save  some  of 
the  timid  ones  inside  the  burning  building. 

Ames  put  her  in  a  place  of  safety,  and  ven- 
tured boldly  in,  and  his  form  was  seen  everywhere. 
When  the  flames  arrested  his  progress,  his  sonorous 
voice  would  be  heard  shouting  to  the  firemen  to 
pour  a  stream  of  water  around  him,  and  in  this 
manner  he  was  the  means  of  saving  many  a  faint- 


AMBITION.  199 

inor  woman  from  beinor  burned  to  death  ;  for  where 

o  o 

they  could  have  been  saved,  they  were  too  timid 
to  venture,  and  those  who  went  to  save  them  passed 
on  to  those  who  were  more  courageous. 

As  Ames  was  wiping  the  water  from  his  face, 
standinor  in  front  of  the  house,  conofratulatinof  him- 
self  that  all  were  saved,  a  piercing  shriek  rent 
the  air,  and  all  eyes  were  immediately  turned  in 
the  direction  of  an  upper  window,  from  whence 
came  the  sound,  and,  to  the  amazement  of  all, 
there  stood  Mrs.  Saunders,  wringing  her  hands  in 
despair.  The  poor  woman  had  escaped  on  the 
first  alarm  to  collect  some  valuable  papers  and 
trinkets.  When  she  had  secured  them,  she  started 
for  the  stairs,  upon  reaching  which  she  found  the 
flames  licking  around  the  balustrades,  and  all  com- 
munication entirely  cut  off  from  below;  then  it  was 
that  she  rushed  wildly  to  the  window,  calling  for 
help  and  wringing  her  hands. 

The  walls  were  hot  and  the  flames  were  fork- 
tongued,  and  leaped  around  her  in  fantastic  shapes, 
as  though  laughing  at  her  misery. 

At  this  fearful  moment,  the  deep-toned  voice  of 
Ames  was  heard  above  the  roaring  of  the  flames, 
as  he  shouted  :  ''  Pour  a  broad  stream  upon  the 
front,  and  bring  a  ladder."  In  an  instant,  several 
hoses  were  turned  on  the  front  of  the  house  ;   still, 


200  AMBITION. 

amid  smoke  and  flame,  the  form  of  the  poor  woman 
could  be  distinctly  seen,  as  if  imploring  help,  though 
her  lips  were  mute. 

The  vast  multitude  held  their  breath  in  speech- 
less horror,  when  a  man  fearlessly  ascended  the 
ladder  with  a  fireman's  hat  and  coat  on.  As  he 
reached  the  window,  he  drew  the  half  fainting  wom- 
an towards  him,  but  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
succeeded  in  getting  her  out  of  the  window,  for  she 
was  a  very  heavy  woman.  When  the  man  reached 
the  pavement,  a  tremendous  shout  rent  the  air,  for 
every  one  knew  that  it  was  Ames  Skiff  who  had 
borrowed  the  fireman's  coat  and  hat. 

.  The  firemen  worked  nobly  to  save  the  sur- 
rounding buildings,  and  shout  after  shout  rent  the 
air,  as  the  flames  were  finally  subdued.  The 
poor  men  were  making  preparations  for  their  de- 
parture, when  Ames  Skifl*  kindly  invited  them  to 
supper,  which  was  served  from  a  restaurant  near  by. 

As  the  men  stood  around  the  tables,  they  gave 
three  hearty  cheers  for  our  hero,  who  gracefully 
acknowledged  the  compliment,  and  giving  orders  for 
whatever  was  required  to  the  keeper,  waved  an 
adieu  with  his  hat,  and  made  his  escape  amid  a  tre- 
mendous shout. 

Before  he  took  the  men  to  supper,  he  had  sent 
his  wife  and  Mrs.  Saunders  in  a  carriage  to  his  own 


AMBITION.  20 1 

home,  where   they  had  every  attention   from  the 
servants. 

When  he  passed  where  the  handsome  house  had 
stood  in  the  morning  full  of  life  and  gayety,  he* be- 
held nothing  but  the  smouldering  ruins,  where  now 
and  then  a  sharp  tongue  of  fire  would  shoot  out 
the  debris. 


CHAPTER      XLV 

THE    SHADOW  OF  DEATH. 


^OME  time  after  the  great  conflagration,  as 
i  ^'^      A _•..-._.    •.    1.-^    .rc..     ^Yi^  post- 
He  has- 


Ames  was  sitting  in  his  office, 
man  brought  in  a  letter  to  him. 
tily  broke  the  seal,  when,  to  his  great  surprise,  it 
was  a  summons  to  the  cleath-bed  of  Mr.  Penn,  the 
father  of  his  wife.  How  to  break  the  dreadful 
news,  he  did  not  know ;  but,  at  last,  his  resolve  was 
taken.  -He  took-his  hat,  and  left  the  office.  When 
he  arrived,  Annie  ran  to  receive  her  usual  kiss. 
Now  something  unusual  in  his  countenance  caused 
her  to  inquire  the  cause,  as  he  placed  the  letter 
in  her  hand,  and  went  towards  the  window  until 
after  its  perusal.  Then  she  called  in.  a  faint 
voice  : 

''  Ames,  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  Had  we  not 
better  start  in  the  morning  ?  Oh !  I  would  not 
have  my  dear  father's  spirit  take  its  flight  before 
I  gazed  once  more  upon  his  beloved  features." 


AMBITION.  203 

xA.mes  put  his  arm  around  Annie,  and  leaned  her 
head  upon  his  shoulder,  when  she  had  a  good, 
quiet  cry,  which  seemed  to  relieve  fier  very  much. 
When  she  became  tranquil,  he  raised  her  head  and 
kissed  her  gently,  bidding  her  get  together  what 
things  she  required  and  be  ready  to  start  that 
night,  then  she  would  be  ready  for  her  duties  in  the 
sick-room  in  the  morning.  To  say  a  thing  was 
as  good  as  having  it  already  done  with  Ames. 
When  he  returned  in  the  evening,  he  found  his 
wife  anxiously  waiting  for  him.  He  also  found 
pleasant  quarters    on  a  steamer.     So,  when  they 

reached  M ,  the  next  morning,  she  was  not  as 

tired  as  she  expected  to  be. 

That  was  a  mournful  group  which  had  assembled 
to  welcome  her  home.  They  led  her  upon  tiptoe 
into  the  room  where  the  beloved  form  of  her  noble 
father  lay  in  the  last  throes  of  death.   • 

The  doctor  would  not  send  for  her  until  all  hope 
of  his  recovery  was  gone  ;  so  when  she  reached 
his  bedside,  his  life  was  fast  ebbing  away.  As 
Annie  and  Ames  bent  lovingly  over  the  dying 
man,  he  opened  his  eyes  and  fixed  them  intently 
upon  them,  murmured  :  "  God  bless  you,  my  chil- 
dren !  "  and  closed  them  again. 

Annie  kneeled  by  his  bed-side,  her  hand  clasped 
in  his  icy  one,  and  her  head  buried  in  the  c®unter- 


204  AMBITION. 

pane.  Ames  stood  over  her  with  his  hand  resting 
upon  her  bowed  head. 

WilHam  Penn  and  his  wife  stood  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed,  and  poor  Mrs.  Penn  moaned  piteously  as 
she  buried  her  face  in  the  cold  hand  of  her  idohzed 
husband,  who,  without  a  sigh  or  murmur,  passed 
gently  away,  seeming  perfectly  well  satisfied  to  have 
his  family  go  with  him  to  the  edge  of  the  dark  river, 
where  he  was  sure  of  his  guide,  to  pass  hi-m  over 
the  cold  waters  in  safety,  to  the  celestial  fields  be- 
yond. 

For  a  long  time  there  was  silence,  broken  only  by 
the  sobs  of  the  poor  afflicted  widow  and  daughter. 

Then  the  doctor  gently  lifted  Mrs.  Penn,  telling 
her  that  all  was  over. 

Ames  led  his  wife  away,  while  Will  did  the  same, 
and  forthwith  preparation  was  made  for  the  funeral. 

In  two  days  after,  all  that  was  mortal  of  Mr.  Penn 
was  consigned  to  the  silent  tomb.  A  large  concourse 
of  friends  followed  him  to  the  grave,  for  he  was 
greatly  beloved. 

After  the  funeral,  Annie  wanted  her  mother  to 
accompany  her  home,  but  she  refused,  saying,  she 
would  never  leave  the  home  of  her  youth,  and  she 
remained  with  Will  Penn,  and  her  daughter  took  a 
tearful  leave  of  all,  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  man 
she  loved. 


CHAPTER    XLVI 


^^'^ 


A    FLYING    VISIT    OUT    WEST. 


HE  deep  mourning  of  Annie  seemed  to  af- 
fect her  spirits,  and  Ames  proposed  a  flying 
visit  to  his  friends  in  the  city  of  C . 

So  one  day  he  told  Annie  to  prepare  for  the 
journey,  and  as  he  always  traveled  by  night,  so 
they  could  be  refreshed  in  the  morning,  at  night- 
fall all  was  in  readiness,  and  soon  they  were  rattling 
over  the  railroad  at  a  rapid  rate. 

Ames  knew,  by  the  jumping  of  the  cars,  that  all 
was  not  right,  and  as  Annie  was  nervous,  he  told 
her  she  had  better  sit  up  altogether,  for  he  really 
feared  an  accident,  and  it  was  better  to  be  pitched 
out  with  their  eyes  open,  than  to  have  them  shut. 
Scarcely  were  the  words  spoken,  than  there  came 
a  fearful  crash,  and  the  cars  were  precipitated  down 
a  steep  embankment.  Fortunately,  none  in  the  car 
with  them  were  injured,  but  the  curses  and  groans 
of  those  in  the  smoking-car  were  frightful  to  hear. 


206  AMBITION. 

When  Ames  found  himself  and  wife  uninjured, 
he  was  thankful  indeed,  and  picked  themselves  up 
to  look  after  those  who  were  crying  for  help. 

When  they  reached  the  cars  that  were  smashed 
up,  they  witnessed  a  frightful  sight.  There  were 
great  hearty  men,  who  were  full  of  life  an  hour 
before,  now  lying  so  mangled  that  one  could  scarcely 
tell  they  were  human  beings. 

The  bodies  of  the  injured  were  carefully  taken 
from  the  ruins  and  laid  upon  the  grass,  and  the 
women  became  ministerinor  aneels  to  them  then  in- 
deed.  Many  a  rough  man  who  had  learned  to 
curse,  in  this  dark  hour  of  fearful  calamity  learned 
to  bless  them,  and  could  not  bear  his  self-consti- 
tuted nurse  to  leave  him  for  a  moment.  The  ladies 
even  tore  up  their  linen  dusters  to  make  bandages 
for  the  wounded. 

Notwithstandino;  the  attention  and  o^ood  nursing, 
some  breathed  their  life  away  upon  the  cold 
ground  ;  but  all  had  a  tear  of  pity  for  their  hard 
fate  shed  over  them,  as  the  women  gently  covered 
the  staring  corpse  with  a  piece  of  cloth  or  handker- 
chief. 

As  Annie  was  moving  away  from  a  terrible-look- 
ing object,  she  heard  a  groan,  and  on  turning  her 
head,  saw  a  beautiful  boy  of  some  fifteen  summers. 
His  great  blue  eyes  seemed  to  follow  her  wherever 


AMBITION.  207 

she  went.  At  last  she  spoke  to  him,  when  he  held 
out  his  hand  and  begged  her  to  lift  him  up.  She 
did  so,  and  laid  his  beautiful  head  upon  her  lap, 
when  he  burst  into  tears,  saying  :  "  Oh,  my  father, 
my  murdered  father  !  Now  I  am  indeed  an  or- 
phan !  I  stand  alone  in  the  wide,  wide  world." 
She  kissed  his  pure  white  brow.  When  Ames  reach- 
ed the  spot,  telling  her  to  make  ready  for  a  speedy 
departure,  she  begged  to  let  the  boy  go  with 
them.  Ames  readily  consented,  willing  to  incur 
all  expense,  if  the  doctor  said  he  could  go. 

The  doctor  gave  his  consent,  and  the  orphan 
found  friends  in  the  amiable  couple,  who  gave  him 
every  attention  until  they  reached  their  destination, 
when  he  was  placed  in  a  luxuriant  bed,  and  a  phy- 
sician called  in,  and  with  good,  careful  nursing,  he 
soon  recovered,  but  his  benefactors  would  not  hear 
of  him  leaving  them. 

When  the  news  of  Ames's  arrival  reached  the 
club-room,  the  hotel  was  literally  besieged  with  his 
old  friends,  who  were  overjoyed  at  shaking  his 
hand  once  more. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 


THE     MEETING     WITH     OLD     FRIENDS. MELANCHOLY 

MEETING    WITH    HENRY    DEBAR. 


HEN  Ames  once  more  made  his  appear- 
ance at  the  club,  he  was  received  with 
enthusiasm.  Toasts  and  speeches  were 
the  order  of  the  evening.  His  bright  smile  seemed 
to  be  contagious,  for  every  countenance  beamed 
with  delight,  as  they  drank  to  the  health  and  future 
happiness  of  the  "  prince  of  good  fellows." 

It  was  nigh  unto  day  when  they  separated. 

When  Ames  reached  home,  he  found  he  had 
missed  the  familiar  face  of  his  old  chum,  Henry 
DeBar,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  make  a  search 
for  that  prominent  gentleman. 

After  partaking  of  a  hearty  breakfast,  the  next 
morning,  Ames  set  off  in  the  direction  of  the  little 
brown  cottage,  which  to  his  astonishment,  he  found 
closed,  and  the  gate   locked  upon  the  inside.     He 


AMBITION.  209 

wended  his  way  in  disappointment  to  the  carriage, 
and  gave  orders  to  drive  to  No.  —  Montgomery 
Street,  which  he  reached  in  a  httle  time,  but  was 
horrified  upon  ahghting  to  find  the  house  all  closed, 
and  a  sash  of  black  crape  hanging  from  the  door. 

He  hastily  ascended  the  steps,  rang  the  bell,  and 
was  admitted  by  the  maid,  who  had  just  wiped  the 
tears  from  her  eyes  with  her  apron,  and  sighed 
heavily  when  Ames  inquired  softly,  why  was  the 
house  in  mourning. 

"  Oh,  sir!  "  said  Mary,  bursting  into  tears,  ''  did 
you  not  hear  that  Mr.  Frank  Hardy,  who  was 
coming  from  New  York,  was  smashed  up  in  that 
horrid  old  train  ?  We  are  now  expecting  him  to 
be  brought  up  from  the  depot  every  minute."  And 
poor  Mary  refused  to  be  comforted,  for  she  had 
"  loved  the  poor  gentleman,"  as  she  said,  and  would 
rather  it  should  have  been  her  worthless  life,  in- 
stead of  his  dear  valuable  one. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Mrs.  Sutton,  thinking  she 
heard  a  familiar  voice,  came  from  the  back  parlor, 
and  upon  seeing  Ames  Skiff,  approached,  extended 
her  hand,  but  neither  could  speak  for  their  emotion. 
Ames  clasped  her  hand  in  silence,  but  she  knew 
how  much  his  great  heart  swelled  with  sympathy 
for  her,  by  the  bright  tear  that  fell  upon  her  hand, 
which  he  held. 


2IO  AMBITION. 

At  length  she  seemed  to  realize  his  awkward 
position,  and  led  him  to  a  room  upon  the  sec- 
ond floor,  where  he  found  Henry  trying  to  com- 
fort little  Maggie,  who  moaned  :  ''  Oh,  my  uncle ! 
my  dear,  dear  uncle  !  Oh  !  papa,  I  found — I  found 
him!  and  now  God  has  taken  him  from  me!"  And 
the  beautiful  girl  hid  her  face  in  his  bosom,  and 
screamed  as  thouofh  she  would  ofo  into  convulsions. 

As  Henry  perceived  Ames  standing  upon  the 
threshold,  he  arose,  with  his  precious  burden  still 
clinging  to  him,  gave  one  hand  to  Ames  in  silence, 
while  with  the  other,  he  was  obliged  to  support  the 
afflicted  girl,  who  would  not  listen  to  words  of 
comfort. 

Our  hero  at  length  found  voice,  and  Inquired  of 
Henry,  if  he  could  be  of  any  service,  to  command 
him  at  once.  ^ 

Henry  gladly  accepted  his  proffered  services, 
and  begged  him  to  go  to  the  depot  at  once  and  see 
what  caused  the  delay  In  removing  the  corpse. 

He  departed  immediately,  with  the  shrieks  of 
Maggie  still  ringing  in  his  ears.  At  the  frontdoor 
he  met  Ernest,  her  brother,  who,  although  he  felt 
his  loss  keenly,  bore  up  as  bravely  as  a  man. 

The  boy  stepped  up  and  placed  his  hand  in  that 
of  the  noble-hearted  Ames,  and  said,  in  a  trem- 
bling voice  :  ''  Sir,  may  I  go  with  you  to  bring  my 


AMBITION.  2  I  I 

uncle  home  ?  "  and  the  answer  being  In  the  affirm- 
ative, he  sprang  into  the  carriage  and  soon  they 
found  themselves  at  the  depot,  where  they  could 
scarcely  make  their  way  through  the  crowd  of 
weeping  women  and  children,  who  were  searching 
among  the  boxes  for  their  loved  ones.  Each 
rough  coffin  had  the  name  of  the  occupant  upon  it. 
Our  friends  soon  found  what  they  sought,  when 
they  procured  a  bier,  and  engaged  four  strong  men 
to  convey  It  to  the  house  of  mourning. 

They  again  entered  the  carriage,  and  was  driven 
to  the  undertaker's,  to  make  immediate  prepara- 
tion for  the  funeral.  When  they  reached  the  house 
there  was  a  crowd  about  the  door  waltlncr  for  the 
corpse  to  arrive. 

Presently  the  heavy  tramp  of  the  pall-bearers 
was  heard,  and  all  raised  their  hats  and  stood  in 
silence   until  the  rouo-h  box  was   borne    into    the 

o 

darkened  parlor,  and  the  undertaker  followed. 
When  the  body  was  exposed  to  view,  Ames  started 
back,  for  he  recognized  one  whose  ghastly  features 
his  wife  had  covered  with  her  handkerchief,  for 
there  was  the  Identical  handkerchief  with  her  ini- 
tials In  a  corner.  He  groaned  aloud,  saying  :  ''  Oh, 
why  did  I  leave  him  alone  ?  Why  did  I  not  bring 
the  noble  remains  with  me  ?  " 

It  was    truly  heart-rending  to  see  the  grief  of 


2  I  2  AMBITION. 

Maggie  when  her  uncle's  corpse  was  brought  in. 
She  broke  away  from  Henry  and  threw  herself 
upon  the  rough  box,  called  her  uncle  by  every  en- 
dearing name,  and  begged  him  just  to  smile  upon 
her  and  speak  to  her  once  more ;  and  then  she  put 
her  ear  down  and  seemed  to  await  his  answer,  and 
when  she  found  he  could  not  answer  she  would 
clinor  around  the  box  and  make  the  stoutest  heart 
ache  with  her  piteous  appeals  and  screams.  This 
was  the  second  time  MaeOfie  had  seen  her  loved 
ones  snatched  away  by  the  ruthless  hand  of  death. 

In  two  days  after,  the  mutilated  remains  of 
the  once  handsome  Frank  Hardy  were  consigned 
to  his  lonel}%  narrow  bed  in  the  beautiful  cemetery. 

When  the  minister  said,  "  Dust  to  dust  and 
ashes  to  ashes,"  every  hat  was  lifted  in  respect  to 
the  dead. 

A  terrible  shriek  rent  the  air,  and  Mao-aie  flew 
by  the  terrified  group,  and  threw  herself  upon 
the  coffin  in  the  grave.  In  a  moment  more,  the 
form  of  our  hero  was  seen  with  the  bleedino-  and 

o 

inanimate  girl  in  his  arms.  He  bore  her  through 
the  crowd,  and  placed  her  gentl}^  in  the  arms  of 
him  who  had  rescued  her  from  starvation,  and  was 
now  her  only  earthly  father  and  protector. 

At  this  outburst  of  grief,  none  could  restrain 
their  tears  ;  even  strong  men,  who  were  unused  to 


AMBITION.  213 


-vveep,  sobbed  aloud.  One  alone  stood  like  he  was 
petrified  ;  that  was  the  noble-hearted  Henry,  who 
held  her  in  his  arms  and  gazed  upon  her  bleeding 
form  as  though  his  heart  was  rent  in  twain. 

He  was  aroused  from  his  stupor  by  Ames,  who 
led  him  to  his  carriage,  when  the  gentle  Annie 
accompanied  them  to  the  house,  and  consoled  them 
with  sweet  words  of  comfort. 

Soon  Maggie  was  made  as  comfortable  as  possi- 
ble, but  fever  set  in,  and  it  was  many  weeks  before 
she  recovered  sufficiently  to  know  the  silent 
watcher  by  her  side.  Such  was  the  devotion  of 
Henry,  that  when  Maggie  came  back  from  the 
verge  of  the  grave,  he  was  scarcely  more  than  a 
shadow  of  his  former  self. 


CHAPTER    XLVIII. 


THE     MYSTERY 


OF     MAGGIE  S     BIRTH      SOLVED. 
HEIRESS. 


-THE 


NE  cold,  rainy  day  in  October,  three  years 


'/^  after  the  death  of  Frank  Hardy,  a  woman 
closely  veiled  entered  the  office  of  Henry 
DeBar,  placed  a  letter  in  his  hand,  and  left  as 
mysteriously  as  she  had  come.  Henry  very  com- 
placently broke  the  seal,  and  two  photographs  fell 
to  the  floor.  He  picked  them  up  and  gazed  long 
upon  the  face  of  Ashton  Moore,  the  other  was 
that  of  a  stranger,  but  Maggie  had  the  same  look 
out  of  the  lovely  blue  eyes,  and  the  same  mis- 
chievous smile  around  the  mouth.  Henry  was 
puzzled,  to  say  the  least,  and  naturally  turned  to  the 
letter  for  explanation.  He  would  first  look  at  the 
'etter,  and  then  he  would  throw  it  down  and  gaze 
intently  upon  each  face  in  turn.     'Tis  true   Henry 


AMBITION.  2  I  5 

had  some  queer  thoughts  about  Ashton  Moore's 
early  life.  Finally,  he  threw  aside  the  pictures  and 
read  the  letter.      It  ran  thus  : 

"Mr.  Henry  DeBar  :  Dear  Sir  : — As  I  am  now 
upon  the  verge  of  eternity,  I  disclose  my  infamy 
in  keeping  this  secret  from  you.  Years  ago,  two 
noble  boys  (twins)  were  given  to  my  care  with 
an  immense  fortune,  when  their  parents  were  cut 
off  in  the  hey-day  of  life  by  that  fearful  scourge, 
yellow-fever,  in  New  Orleans. 

"  Well,  I  was  childless,  and  gave  one  of  the 
boys  to  the  world,  and  the  other  I  kept,  with  his 
fortune,  to  myself.  When  he  was  only  seventeen 
years  old  (he  was  large  for  his  age,  and  was  ex- 
ceedingly handsome  and  manly)  he  formed  an  at- 
tachment, from  his  early  boyhood,  with  a  lovely 
child  of  a  poor  neighbor,  and  amid  strong  opposi- 
tion, this  smouldering  fire  leaped  out  in  a  fearful 
flame,  that  proved  their  own  destruction,  for  the 
boy,  who  had  an  account  at  bank,  drew  it,  and  the 
result  was  a  grand  elopement  of  the  children,  the 
girl  was  but  fifteen  and  the  boy  not  yet  seventeen. 
After  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  gain  possession  of 
the  children,  we  gave  up  in  despair. 

"  Some  few  years  ago,  we  found  some  trace  of  the 
widow  and  children  of  my  noble  Walter  Ashton 
Moore  ;  he  was  named  after  his  father,  but  dropped 


2  I  6  AMBITION. 

the  'Moore,'  and  went  by  the  name  o£  Ashton,  to 
escape  detection. 

"  When  I  heard  of  the  family,  they  were  in 
abject  poverty,  and  of  course,  would  only  have 
been  a  burden  to  me.  The  next  thine  I  heard, 
was  that  you  had  taken  them  under  your  protec- 
tion, and  I,  as  a  demon,  rested  satisfied,  until  I  was 
stricken  down  by  the  hand  of  an  avenging  God. 
Now,  sir,  if  you  go  to  the  Merchants'  Bank,  you 
will  find  an  account  in  the  name  of  Walter  A. 
Moore,  which  I  have  bequeathed  in  my  will  to  the 
children  of  said  W.  A.  Moore,  and  that  further- 
more that  the  twin  brother  is  known  by  the  name 
of  Ashton  Moore,  and  said  Ashton  Moore  has 
papers  to  the  effect  that  he  has  a  twin  brother; 
therefore,  I  enclose  the  likeness  of  both  father 
and  mother  to  substantiate  my  dying  statement.  I 
hereby  declare  that,  Ernest  Ashton,  with  his  two 
sisters,  Maggie  and  Lulu,  are  the  legitimate  chil- 
dren, and  lawful  heirs  of  Walton  Ashton  Moore, 
and  may  God  bless  and  keep  them  as  he  has  here- 
tofore is  the  dying  wish  of 

*'  Marcus  B.  Clinton, 
"  Guardian  of  Walter  Ashton  Moore." 

"■  So  my  Maggie  has  found  a  relative  for  the 
one    she    has    lost,"  said    Henry,  as    he    carefully 


AMBITION.  217 

k 

folded  the  valuable  document,  and  placed  it  In  his 
inside  pocket,  and  wended  his  way  to  the  hotel  of 
Ames,  to  consult  with  that  gentlemen,  who  was 
glad  that  he  was  so  near  to  the  little  gifted 
Maggie. 

When  Henry  found  everything  was  correct, 
which  was  stated  in  the  letter,  and  the  miserable 
wretch  was  dead  and  almost  forgotten,  he  broke 
the  news  to  the  children,  who  were  delighted  at 
the  thought  of  having  a  cousin,  and  that,  too,  in 
the  handsome  Ashton. 

Upon  Maggie's  birthday,  her  adopted  fatherpre- 
sented  her  with  two  handsome  portraits — one  of 
her  mother  and  the  other  her  father,  when  all  de- 
clared that  Ashton  Moore  must  have  sat  for  it. 

When  Ashton    arrived  three    months  after,   he 

was  indeed  proud  to  own  the  handsome  blue-eyed 

girl,  who  modestly  let  him  take  her  in  his  strong 

arms,  and  cover   her  blushing  face  with  kisses,  but 

one  stood  apart  whose  bosom  swelled  with  emotion, 

and  that  one  was   none  other  than  our  old  friend 

Milton    Smith,    who,    although  old  enough  to  be 

Maggie's  uncle,  wished  that  he  could  be  something 

nearer. 

10 


CHAPTER    XLIX 


MILTON    SMITH  S    REWARD. 


x^^EARS    rolled    on,    and    Milton    Smith    had 


gained  a  great  suit  in  law,  and  was  receiving 
the  congratulations  of  his  friends  in  the  court 
room,  when  he  encountered  a  pair  of  bewitching 
blue  eyes  filled  with  happy  tears,  and  as  her  father, 
Henry  DeBar,  led  her  forward  to  press  the  hand  of 
the  eloquent  and  successful  lawyer,  who  had  been 
his  companion  for  years,  she  timidly  and  blushingly 
put  forth  her  hand,  which  he  grasped,  and  blushed 
like  a  girl. 

Henry  saw  that  his  jewel  was  loved  by  a  man 
who  was  every  way  worthy  of  her,  and  whom  he 
would  trust  to  the  end  of  the  world.  Some  days 
after,  Milton  called  at  the  office  and  demanded  the 
hand  of  the  beautiful  daughter  of  Henry  in  mar- 
riage, who  grasped  his  friend  by  the  hand,  saying  : 
''Take  her,  my  boy,  and  may  you  be  happy!" 
Thus  was  the  honest  lawver 'rewarded. 


AMBITION.  219 

As  he  was  turning  away,  he  said :  "  Henry,  I 
have  one  more  favor  to  ask.  Will  you  give  Ernest 
a  junior  partnership  in  our  firm  ?  " 

*'  No !  "  said  Henry,  "  he  is  now  being  fitted  out 
to  enter  West  Point,  for  he  has  chosen  a  military 
life,  and  I  will  be  proud  of  my  soldier  boy  yet ;  be 
satisfied  with  what  you  have  got ;  do  not,  I  beg  of 
you,  try  to  rob  me  of  all!" 

"  Nay,  not  all,  Henry,  for  }'ou  have  another 
sweet  blossom  in  little  Lulu,  whom  )'ou  will  have 
to  give  away  one  of  these  days."  So  the  two 
friends  parted. 


CHAPTER    L 


THE    GOAL    OF    HIS    AMBITION    REACHED. 


T  m,  AM  mighty  glad  that  somebody  has  taken 
wA  hold  of  this  old  road,  and  made  it  what  it 
^B>  is  now,  for  really  I  did  dread  the  hazardous 
undertaking  of  jogging  over  the  fam.ous  Erie  Rail- 
road— famous  only  for  its  slaughter  of  human 
life. 

"  Oh  !  with  what  a  different  feelinor  one  can  enter 
the  grand  palace  car  now.  Why,  I  can  disrobe  for 
the  night  and  feel  as  secure  as  when  I  am  in 
my  bed  at  home,"  and  so  saying  the  corpulent 
old  gentleman  took  off  his  spectacles  and  turned 
the  seat,  then  stretched  himself  out  to  take  a  com- 
fortable nap,  for,  as  he  had  told  his  neighbors, 
lie  did  not  apprehend  the  least  danger,  so  secure 
did  he  rest  in  the  belief  that  a  master  hand  held 
the  reins  of  the  iron  horse. 

Who  was  this  prince  of  the  road  ?     Why,  none 


AMBITION.         •  221 

Other  than  the  ambitious  country  youth  who  had 
ventured  from  his  mountain  home  to  rein  in  the 
fiery  horses  of  Van  Amburgh's  circus.  From  one 
round  of  the  ladder  he  has  stepped  upon  the 
other  until  now  he  is  up  at  the  top.  And  more- 
over, in  his  conquering  march  he  has  won  many 
hearts  by  his  noble  bearing  and  gentle,  womanly 
heart,  with  his  lion's  strength.  Even  here  it  is  put 
before  a  wondering  world^ie  makes  humanity  his 
study.  Ah !  the  recollection  of  that  railroad  slaughter 
is  ever  before  his  eyes.  Had  it  not  been  for  care- 
lessness, his  noble  friend,  Frank  Hardy,  would 
be  here  to  celebrate  his  triumph.  And  yet,  our 
hero  grasps  one  thing  more  ;  he  thinks  there  ought 
to  be,  for  the  comfort  of  the  poorer  masses,  floating 
palaces,  as  the  Granville,  on  the  Mississippi,  and 
forthwith  he  fits  up  the  great  Arctic.  Who  but 
the  prince  of  good  fellows  would  think  of  getting 
up  such  a  splendid  craft  for  the  good  of  the  poorer 
classes,  the  elegant  hanofingfs  and  the  solid  furni- 
ture  and  splendid  mirrors,  so  all  can  have  a  glimpse 
of  the  grandeur  this  world  contains,  and  which  is 
within  the  grasp  of  every  enterprising  young  Amer- 
ican ;  for  mind  you,  this  man  has  made  his  own 
fortune,  young  as  he  is.  And  proud  indeed  ought 
the  parents  of  such  a  son  to  be.  Young  men  !  the 
avenue  of  enterprise  and  wealth  is  open  to  you  as 


2  2  2  •         AMBITION. 

well  as  It  was  to  him.     He  had  exalted  ideas,  and 
now  he  realizes  all  his  boyhood  thought  of. 

It  is  this  real  hero  that  my  story  commences  with. 
He  has  always  held  an  iron  rein  over  himself  as 
well  as  over  his  team,  and  his  motto  has  always 
been,  ''  Never  turn  back." 


CHAPTER     LI 


CONCLUSION. 

N   the  corner  of  —  Avenue  and Street, 

ooms    up  to    view  a    magnificent    marble 


)uilcling. 


We  take  a  peep  inside.  There 
are  grand  broad  marble  staircases  and  grand  ante- 
rooms, where  groups  are  standing  waiting  to  be 
summoned  to  his  august  presence.  Presently  a 
glass  door  is  thrown  open,  and  the  Tisher  announces 
you.  You  feel  like  you  were  in  the  presence  of  the 
President  of  the  United  States  ;  but  fear  not,  it  is 
simply  our  hero  ;  these  are  his  working  hours  ; 
business  is  business  with  him  ;  you  tell  him  your 
business  and  are  speedily  dispatched,  for  he  has 
hundreds  waiting  and  his  time  is  precious.  He 
bow5;  you  out  in  great  style.  Mind,  whatever  he 
undertakes  is  done  in  the  most  urbane  manner,  for 
he  has  great  regard  for  the  feelings  of  every  one  ; 
has    he    not    come    through    all    grades    ol    life  ? 


2  24  AMBITION. 

Now,  again  we  catch  a  parting  glimpse  of  our  hero. 
He  Is  tendered  a  commission.  What  Is  It?  Ah! 
he  Is  unanimously  voted  a  military  commander. 
Our  hero  accepts  the  honorable  position,  and  forth- 
with spends  his  money  freely  to  make  his  regi- 
ment second  to  none  In  the  service.  As  they 
parade  through  the  streets,  ladles  wave  their 
dainty  handkerchiefs  and  men  wave  their  hats,  and 
tremendous  shouts  rend  the  air.  Now,  as  he  has 
his  foot  upon  the  topmost  round  of  the  ladder,  let 
us  shout  with  the  multitude  a  hearty  shout  for 
young  America. 


THE    END. 


r^^ 


h.X 


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